Amber Curse
by Kagehime3
Summary: In a time of gods and giants, there was no escaping the fate woven by the Norns. A young woman with a mysterious heritage flees an oppressive Jarl, only to find herself in the possession of another. But is the Berserker truly as cruel as the man she's hiding from? Rated for violence, gore, and sexual content. Kid x Nami. One-sided Arlong x Nami.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Prologue: Don't Look Back_

The sky was lit a brilliant amber as the sun set into the purple haze on the horizon, the scattered rays glittering on the gentle currents of the river. It should be a promising sign that the gods were with them, but her stomach churned with trepidation as she stood in the door of the long abandoned farmhouse. She had no idea where she was going, all she knew was that she had to go as far as she could.

Far from that man. Far from his ambitions. Far from his intentions.

"Nami," her sister whispered as she came up behind her. "It's growing dark. They'll be searching for us soon."

She turned to Nojiko and couldn't help but smile at the young woman. Their mother would be proud to see her then. Light blue hair braided tight on either side of her head, pulling back the strands into a long plait bound with red linen as it fell down her back. The top of her hair was woven into the braid at the back of her head while the unbraided locks added to her height and painfully reminded her of the strip of long magenta hair their mother wore atop an otherwise shaven head. Nojiko wore a yellow wool dress more fitting to everyday life in the village, but over it she had strapped the old, worn leathers and mail that once belonged to their mother.

With the shield thrown over her shoulder, and small axe on her hip, she looked as a shieldmaiden should. As their mother had.

"Here," Nojiko said, handing over an extra axe for Nami. The oak shaft was smooth from years of use and the crescent blade shone from her sister's work sharpening it as they prepared to leave. "Are the provisions in the boat?"

Nami nodded as she took the weapon and slipped it into the woven leather belt at her waist. It hung awkwardly, the braided fabric unused to the extra weight. Nojiko could only find one set of their mother's armor, and Nami insisted she wear it. Nami didn't need it, after all. He wouldn't kill her.

"It should be enough for a few days, but we'll need to find a safe steading to get more," Nami said as she secured her fur cloak on her shoulders. The air was growing chilly as night drew near. The linen of her white under-dress was too thin to be sailing on the open sea so late at night, and the blue apron dress she wore over it didn't help, either. But freezing was the least of her worries.

"Do you know our route?" Nojiko asked as she took her sister by the arm and guided her over the worn path, through the tall grass and reeds that had grown in place of crops.

"Ideally we'll follow the coast up from Kattegat and head toward Skagerrak," she said at a hush, her gaze casting around the hill for any sign of his men. They had told them they were merely going for a walk and that they would return before nightfall. They would be upon them soon if they didn't leave. They all knew where their walks took them. "We can't risk going out to open waters."

The old faering their mother had brought them to the village in had certainly seen rougher waters, but it was far from a proper seafaring vessel. It was likely a miracle of the gods that their mother got through the storm in that small boat. Even a longship might have had difficulty in the shallow Kattegat. After eight years of disuse, there was no chance the boat would survive open waters, no matter how much she tended to the vessel's upkeep.

She shivered as the breeze picked up, whipping her hair into her face. She should have plaited it like Nojiko, but there hadn't been time. Only the top portion had been braided tight to her scalp, while the rest was left in a thick tail of bright orange waves that cascaded over her back and shoulders.

They were near the beach when they heard a faint rustle in the distance. Nojiko grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down to hide them in the tall grass. As Nami held her breath, listening to the sound grow near, she prayed that it was nothing more than a hare. She would even take a wolf roaming nearby, as long as it wasn't him.

"Nami," Nojiko whispered, patting her on the head to draw her in and rest their foreheads together. Her smile was tense, wary, but she tried to remain confident. Nami found herself mirroring the expression, as forced as it was. "No matter what happens, you run, alright?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, her breath lost. She shook her head. She couldn't. There was no way she could leave without her.

Nojiko lightly smacked her head to hers in silent reprimand. "You run. And don't look back." Nami's lip quivered as her sister took her left hand and pressed a hand over the bracelets there, gifts from a childhood long behind her. "Mother will protect you."

A voice hollering broke them apart. "Nami! Get out here!" he shouted, and Nami couldn't hold back the shiver of fear that raced down her spine.

She really would have preferred a wolf.

"Woman!" he called out again. The rustling grew louder, and she knew he wasn't alone. "Search the house! She has to be here!"

She heard his men call their understanding and move to search for her. She couldn't stop trembling.

Nojiko shoved her toward the beach. "Go," she whispered harshly. She waved her hand at Nami's startled gaze. "And stay low."

"No…" Nami breathed out, but her sister shoved her again and then stood up from the grass.

"Nojiko!" He hollered, and Nami finally scampered away from her sister as she listened to his footsteps trudge down the path. "Where is your sister?"

Nami knew she had to run then, but she couldn't leave Nojiko to him. She watched, scared, as the older woman drew the axe from her belt, the sharp silver crescent glinting with the last rays of the sun.

Nami panicked. It was happening all over again.

"She's gone," Nojiko answered firmly, waving her axe behind her to signal that Nami get out of there.

"What?" he growled, and Nami finally found the resolve to run just as Nojiko lowered her round shield in front of her. "What do you mean _gone_?" he snarled, and Nami stifled a sob as she listened to his heavy footfalls storm toward her sister. "Where!?"

"Far away from you, you monster!" Nojiko shouted. "You'll never lay a hand on her!"

Nami broke out of the grass and onto the beach. She was out in the open, but the boat was in reach. She would make it. She would get away from him.

She made the mistake of looking back when one of his men shouted to signal where she was. _He_ stood towering in front Nojiko, rage-filled eyes casting over the beach until they landed on her. His long black hair was tied in a low tail. The inky waves seemed to swallow what little light cast upon him. His lips curled in an angry sneer. The only way he would look more like the monstrous jotunn he claimed to be, was if he had fangs to that snarl.

"Nami! Get back here now!" he called in warning.

She hesitated as he took a step toward Nojiko.

"Nami! Run!" Nojiko reminded before turning to slam her axe into the Jarl's side. The strike didn't do anything to him. They all knew it wouldn't.

A blade buried in his side and he hardly let out a grunt before his narrowed gaze settled on the woman daring to strike him. Nojiko balked in the face of such a dangerous man, and Nami was relieved to see her spin and take off in a sprint for the beach.

"Nojiko, hurry!" she called out as she waded toward the small faering, biting back a shiver at the icy cold waters. It was still early Spring, the winter snows melting had left the river even more bitter cold than normal.

She looked back once she got to the vessel to watch as their Jarl slowly pulled the blade from his side, barely grimacing as he did. At least he bled, though it wasn't nearly as much as he deserved. He turned to wave at his men, ordering them to give chase, and Nami turned frantically to wave her sister toward her.

"Come on, we can still make it," she insisted, climbing over the gunwale and into the boat. When she looked back again, Nojiko had just reached the water and was wading to the boat, but the men were sprinting down the beach toward her. Nami reached out her hand, desperately hoping she could reach the woman before it was too late. "Nojiko!"

Her sister reached the boat, and Nami watched, stunned, as she only shoved the boat out into the river.

"Nojiko!" she screamed as her sister turned back to the men splashing into the water after her. She screamed again when the woman slammed her shield into one man in a vain attempt to shove him over. He wasn't stable on the silt of the riverbed, and slid, but another was there to grab at Nojiko. Her struggles threw that man off balance and sent him back into a third that had been aiming to wade out after Nami.

They were so much larger than Nojiko; true giants. She was no match for them. Even less for the enraged Jarl storming toward her.

Nami screamed again, the sound strangled with a sob as she watched, helpless to stop what was coming. All he had to do was backhand Nojiko once and she staggered in the water, blood trickling from a cut lip. He grabbed her braid in a tight hold, winding his hand around it, and yanked the woman from the water and onto the shore. He shoved her to her knees and then kicked her in the side as hard as he could. Nojiko fell with that single strike, curling in on herself as she coughed up bile and blood.

"Don't worry, Nami," the Jarl called out as he reached down and pulled Nojiko up by her hair again. His grin was sickeningly amused as the woman hung limply in front of him. "I'll take good care of your sister until you return to my hall."

"Don't hurt her!" she cried out. "Please!"

His grin spread and he yanked on the woman's hair until she cried out.

"Arlong!" Nami screamed.

"Run as far as you want, Nami," he laughed. "I'll find you. After all, the Norns have willed that you'll belong to me. You'll never get far enough to escape that fate."

His laugh carried on the wind, echoing in the night. It followed her all the way out to the Kattegat.

All she could do was curl up in the haul of her small boat, hands pressed to her ears as she desperately swallowed her sobs.

He was right.

She would never escape him.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_ **_So, I've started the Viking AU. Though, to be honest, while it's heavily inspired by the Vikings, I will be taking a lot of creative liberties in this story. It is more heavily based in fantasy and Norse mythology, but I'm going to do my best to keep some significant historical aspects of the Norse people in the fic (namely related to clothing and daily life - but even that will be loosely used). As I was researching this, I realized it was going to be incredibly hard to keep it as historically accurate as I might have originally wanted to, mainly because there isn't a lot of accurate information on the Vikings. Most historical documents are written by the people who they raided and warred with, and the few stories transcribed later on (namely the Prose Edda and Poetic Edda) were collected after Christianization, when most all aspects of Viking culture and paganism were twisted and destroyed, so a number of historians find them to not be completely reliable (though easily the best information they had to go off of, despite the obvious Christian influences). The Vikings relied on an oral history, rather than a written one, so there are no historical texts from them and archaeological research is constantly contested. I've read so many theories and counter-theories and back and forth arguments, it's kind of a headache, to be honest. There are a few things that most seem to agree on to one degree or another, but much of it I am going to rely on the theories that fit this story best, from a creative perspective... Which is also why I'm taking this in a more mythological direction, where I feel I have a little more freedom to play and re-adapt. Also because the mythology works so beautifully for Kid and Nami (especially Nami, holy shit I'm gonna have fun with her in this)... and even Arlong fits perfectly into it. I might make remarks on the more vague mythological references I make in later author notes because I personally find it very fascinating._

 _One thing that I debated on with this was geographic context. Since this takes place in ancient Sweden and Norway (and a bit of France), place names aren't really known, so I'm using more present day names for certain villages, towns, and geological landmarks to help better orient it in context to where exactly they are. It's entirely because I'm obsessive, and probably wouldn't matter, but for my sanity I feel a need to use the names of present name regions I'm referring to. Were there Viking settlements in these places? I do not know, at least not for certain. There's evidence for a few spots, but not all, so I'm just tossing my hands in the air and not worrying too much about it._

 _As for where in the Viking era this falls, I want to say near the end, so around 1000-ish. But again, this probably matters to no one but me._

 _Oh, and more important than all that:_

 _I considered posting this fic to AO3 instead of here for a few reasons. This fic is going to be extremely violent. If you've watching Vikings on History Channel, you can imagine just how violent. There will also be a lot of sex at later points. I'll also be pushing more boundaries with the types of pairings I include._

 _Pairing-wise: Obviously this is a KidNami fic. They are going to be the main points of view and the main pairing, but I will also be including one-sided Arlong x Nami (I'm not sure if anyone has noticed that I do tease toward this pairing at times, admittedly more so with KidNami fics), one-sided Enel x Nami (very vague, though), hints toward some Kid x Killer, and possibly some stronger hints toward Killer x Nojiko._

 _There are going to be three antagonists to this fic. I'm sure based on the pairings above, you can guess who two of them are (as if one isn't already obvious enough). The third is going to be a surprise! Because I'm proud of myself for coming up with it. XD You'll find out about that one near the end._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Guidance_

She woke with a start and gasped as pain lanced up her side and through her shoulder. She wasn't sure what woke her this time. The cold, hard ground beneath the pine she hid under? The scratching of the branches swaying in the breeze? The unsated hunger clawing at her gut the past two days?

Or maybe it was the nightmare that plagued her in those brief moments she allowed herself to shut her eyes and sleep.

When she set out on the Kattegat, she had intended to stay close to shore, but the shallow reefs forced her to venture further out to avoid getting stuck. It was dangerous and reckless to navigate the strait at night, especially in such a small boat, with only a gibbous moon to light her path, but stupidity was often bred from desperation.

And she was desperate.

She rowed until her arms ached, using the oars to check the water depth when she felt she had come too near the shallows. Once she ventured further out, she struggled to raise the mast and sail alone. The voyage would have been difficult even with Nojiko, but now that she was alone, the only thing that pushed her to work was the instinct to survive and flee. With the sail secured, she had collapsed by the steering oar and finally gave in to the urge to cry.

She didn't know if Nojiko was alive. Arlong hadn't seemed inclined to kill her just yet, but that only meant her sister had to endured the full force of his abuse. She hated to think it, but at least Genzo was still there. He would do what he could to steer Arlong's anger toward himself and hopefully save her sister from more unjust beatings.

Then again, he might finally kill Genzo for her disobedience, and Nojiko would be completely without mercy.

After all, it was Genzo's warning that had urged them to finally run away. As horrifying as it was to see their once proud Jarl turned into a thrall, his status as a slave sometimes made him invisible to the men who overthrew him. They only cared to notice his existence when they needed someone to hurt.

She forced herself not to think about them, as painful as that had been. She had to be as cold as the northern winds. As hard as the glaciers deep in the mountains. She had to be selfish and stubborn. Maybe if the gods were on her side, as Arlong always swore they were, then she would find a way to save the only family bonds she knew. That hope was the one thing keeping her alive.

She didn't sleep for two days while out at sea. She ate her rations sparingly. Even if she now had enough food to last an extra couple of days, she didn't dare waste a crumb by overeating. There was no telling how long it would take to find safe housing, if she could find it at all. In the end, she probably should have enjoyed the extra pieces of bread and dried meat since she lost it all in a storm, anyway.

She had made it to the Skagerrak when the storm hit. She had felt it coming, but there was no avoiding the fast building winds in her small boat. All she could do was hunker down beneath her cloak, shivering in the freezing rain, and pray that she didn't capsize.

Of course she wasn't so lucky. She never had been. If the gods of the sea had truly been behind her since birth like he claimed, she would have avoided the storm, her boat would have held in the churning waves and winds, she wouldn't have been dragged by Rán's net until her lungs burst with the need to breathe, and she wouldn't have been slammed into a rocky shore, barely conscious when it was all over.

At least she was alive. He'd use that as a testament to her blessed nature.

If she was blessed, then the gods had a sick sense of humor in proving it.

At that point, she was lost. For the first time in her life, she was completely lost. As best she could tell, she was on the western coast of Noregi, but where exactly, she couldn't say. Her only bet was to start walking north. She knew there were a number of villages along the coast, further up into Oslofjord. She might be walking for days, but it was her only chance of finding refuge.

And food.

With her boat gone, so too were her supplies. All she had was the axe on her hip and the small knife she always had in her pouch; the weapons miraculously holding fast on her belt. She also found the few pieces of silver she had secured before leaving, but two pieces of gold were gone. Likely Rán helped herself to those before tossing her ashore.

Her dress and cloak were soaked through for a day, even less protection from the elements, but at least she had been able to make a small fire that first night on land to help dry her clothes and warm her chilled bones. She had nothing to tend the gash on her left arm, or the cut to her forehead, but she cleaned them as best she could with strips of cloth from her shift. Her side was heavily bruised and it hurt to walk, but after that small respite, she forced herself to ignore it.

Once the sun was up, she began walking. It was slow going as she moved toward the forest. The terrain would be rougher, but she would be hidden from ships passing on the ocean. If Arlong had sent one out to search for her, she would see that he had a difficult time.

In the trees, she struggled to keep her eyes out for danger, as well as food. She found some wild berries late in the afternoon that did nothing to ease the initial hunger, but it was better than nothing. By the night, she had found a small stream and eagerly cupped the water in her hands to drink. There had been fish, but it was growing too dark to catch any, so she suffered through the night with her small fire, imagining how good one little fish would be for supper.

Come the morning, her whole body ached and she found her muscles too stiff to catch anything in the stream.

That night had also been the first of her nightmares.

She doubted she slept for more than an hour, her mind far too anxious and aware of the dangers in the forest to doze off for long. But for that short time, she was assaulted with images of battle and blood, smoke and screams. She woke with the image of a massive wolf laying still in the mud, his dark pelt matted with blood. She had expected to face dark dreams of her sister's torment, or harsh memories of her mother's death, but the dreams she had were nothing like those.

She convinced herself they had grown from the stress of being alone and injured. She refused to think they might mean anything else.

When the dream returned the next night, she woke trembling with fear and was surprised to feel tears staining her cheeks. This time the dream came with even more pain. Her shoulder screamed at her as she slept, and she once more convinced herself that it was nothing more than her injured body betraying her mind with madness.

Food was even harder to come by that day, and her progress through the woods was slowed by a rain storm rolling through. Her body was too stiff to move by mid-afternoon, and she gave up to huddle beneath the pine until the rain passed. She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until she woke from her recurring nightmare to find night had fallen and left her alone in an eerie darkness beneath the tree.

She stifled a groan as she tried to sit upright, tugging her cloak tight around her when a shiver passed through her. Beneath the wool and fur, fingers clumsy with cold grappled at the sleeve of her dress to check her aching wound. It stung to the touch and her fingers felt damp. She couldn't be sure if it had reopened as she slept, or if the wetness was from something far worse. With how her head ached and her mind felt hazy with fever, she knew it wasn't blood seeping from the gash.

She needed to find a village, someone to treat the cut properly. And food. She desperately needed food.

Her body felt too heavy to move and the dark made her wary to leave the relative security of the tree. Granted, if a predator caught her scent, it wouldn't matter if she was beneath a pine or out in the open. If she could climb the branches to a safer perch, she would, but as it was, she couldn't even stand, let alone reach for the lowest branches that were still well above her head, even if she stood on her toes.

A twig snapped in the distance, the sound breaking through the quiet night like the roar of thunder in a storm. Nami stiffened and pressed her back to the tree trunk, wide eyes casting around in search of what was approaching. She hoped it was just a hare, though she knew it was too late for the creature to be wandering the forest. Maybe it wasn't a twig, but an old branch giving on another tree.

The image of the beast in her dreams flit through her mind, and Nami hunched into her cloak with a quiet whimper.

She hoped it wasn't a wolf.

She snapped her head to the left when she caught movement in the trees. It was far too dark to make out the creature carefully climbing down a ridge of boulders. It was large, though. That much she could tell.

She heard a snort of air as it paused. She watched the shadow of a head raise, a snout drawing in a scent as best she could guess. It grunted again, and she watched with terror overtaking her as the animal began to head toward her. She couldn't move. She was helpless to whatever was preying on her.

Her mind stirred up images of bloody fangs and hot breath. She didn't want to see that part of her demise, so she drew the cloak over her head entirely, buried herself in the fur collar. Maybe it would ignore her if it didn't see her. A stupid hope, but she had no other chance for survival otherwise.

As she listened to its steps thump over the forest floor, she grappled at her waist for the axe she hadn't used for anything other than splitting wood at that point. She tried not to move too much as she drew it out, bit her lip to keep from hissing as her bruised side ached with the effort. Once the weapon was secure, she held herself as still as she could, carefully peering over the collar of her furs to look for the beast again.

It had vanished from the spot she last spied it, but she could still hear its heavy grunts and snorts of air. Her eyes cast around her, slowly sweeping over every rock, every tree, searching for a shadow unlike the rest.

A scream was strangled in her throat when she found the creature standing tall in front of her, a few feet out of her reach.

A cloud moved from where it shaded the full moon that night, and Nami felt all tension leave her as the silver-blue rays lit up the forest through the trees. Tan fur seemed to glow an ethereal white, warm and inviting. Sharp, curving antlers stood out from the green pine needles. She could have sobbed in relief as she watched his head bob with another snort of air, knocking the branches hanging low over his head.

The reindeer wasn't likely a threat, though she was curious what interest he had taken in her to bring him in so close. Usually they were timid of strangers.

She watched, weariness replacing her fear, as he kicked a hoof into the soil beneath the tree and bobbed his head again. She blinked tiredly as he shifted to the side, grunted in a way that sounded almost confused. His antlers appeared to be catching in the branches, but he moved back to shake them loose and began to circle the tree until he reached a point where the needled limbs grew higher.

"What are you doing?" she heard herself ask softly.

He snorted in response and ducked his head low as he crept beneath the branches toward her side. For a moment she became worried again when he nudged her injured shoulder. The reindeer was a large creature, far stronger than she was. If he was being territorial, or more aggressive than she originally thought, then she could be in just as much danger as she would be with a predator.

When she hissed in pain at his touch, though, he froze and pulled back. She swore he appeared worried.

He breathed out, as if sighing, and ducked his head while kneeling onto his forelegs. She slid her axe into her belt when he laid his head against her legs, mindful of his tall antlers. She tentatively reached out a shaking hand to run over his snout. He huffed and nudged the palm, the movement somehow encouraging. She couldn't help but smile as her fingers passed through soft fur, up to his swiveling ear. He turned suddenly to nudge his blue nose into her face, his hot breath comforting in the cool night.

"You're a friendly guy, aren't you?" she cooed. She wondered if maybe she was dreaming, if the fever had finally made her delirious. If it had, at least the dreams weren't of the dying wolf. She allowed herself to take comfort in the dream, and pressed her face against his, nuzzling the creature. He was so warm, and her weak limbs didn't ache as they had. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she didn't fear falling asleep like she had each night since she left her home and sister.

Somewhere on the edge of consciousness, she heard a clicking. The reindeer grunted, as if recognizing the sound, and nudged his head beneath her arms until she had no choice but to hook herself around his antlers as he pulled her off the ground. There was another click. Nami thought it sounded like a person, the familiar cluck of a tongue a farmer might use to herd their sheep and goats. She decided she truly was delirious, especially when she heard the voice of an ageless woman fading into the dark as it overtook her.

"That's a good boy. Bring her where she needs to be."

* * *

Nami felt like she was floating. She wasn't sure how long she slept, nor did she care. The fur beneath her was too warm for her to even worry about any dangers she might be led in to. She didn't stir until she felt the reindeer come to a stop and her body lowered to the ground. She could hear a stream amidst the gentle sway of the trees around her, smell the wet earth of the bank, feel the softness of the soil beneath her.

She blinked open her eyes to see that it was still night, but the forest seemed far brighter than it was. She was no longer among pines, the flora growing diverse and rich around the water, but her gaze was quickly drawn to one tree in particular.

As beautifully blooming as the yew tree was, with its leafy pine branches spreading out over the shallow stream, her whole attention was on the fire crackling beneath. Her breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the area. She caught a pile of furs to one side of the fire, nearest the trunk of the large tree. A log sat near the water with a pelt spread over it and a leather pack sitting on the ground beside it. Two horses were tied close to the water, just on the other side of the tree.

There were people nearby. But most importantly, there was food somewhere in that camp.

Her stomach growled painfully, and her hand went to clutch it in a vain hope of silencing its insistent need for food. She had no idea who the camp might belong to. It was dangerous to approach, but she was starving and hadn't seen any sign of a village nearby.

And that fire looked so warm. It was bigger than what she allowed herself. A flickering glow that fought away the darkness. Her eyes stung just imagining the comfort it would provide her aching body.

She had completely forgotten about the creature who brought her there until she felt his snout nudge her back. She glanced over her shoulder at the reindeer and smiled gratefully. Maybe the gods truly were protecting her.

Giving the reindeer a quick pat on the nose, she gathered whatever courage she had left and turned back to the fire. Thievery among free North-men was a grave crime, but one she wasn't unfamiliar with. She gave Genzo so many headaches as a child when she would sneak into his hall during a feast and help herself to a cup of sweet mead or scraps of meat she wouldn't otherwise get at home. She was caught once trying to sneak off with a gold necklace his men had brought back after a raid, among many other trinkets. She didn't think anyone would miss one little necklace. She was fortunate Genzo only punished her by making her scrub the floors of his hall and help mend the other villagers' clothes for a month.

An adult would face a far worse punishment depending on who they stole from. Slavery or death were the more preferred means of retribution, though some men were lenient and merely took a few fingers or a hand.

She flexed her hand at the thought. She really couldn't afford to lose anything. She would have to take extra care not to get caught.

The prospect of nourishment helped her forget her pain as she crouched behind a tree, once more making a sweep of the campsite for who it might belong to. They couldn't be far. She had her answer when she caught a faint stirring within the pile of furs. She heard a low groan as its occupant turned, and then a decidedly masculine hand and arm fell out to lay flat over the cold ground.

She _really_ couldn't be caught.

With careful steps, she crept through the brush and fresh sprouts of grass toward the water. She avoided every twig, every loose stone. A warrior would not sleep lightly out in the open. No one would, but if this man happened to be a fighter, his senses would be sharp, even in sleep. He would wake with one crunch of leather on stone, and have a blade at her throat before she even took another breath.

She aimed for the pack set against the log. It was her best bet for rations.

The wet soil at the bank of the stream sank with every soft step she took. She calmed her racing heart with silent breaths, afraid he might hear the thrum of anxiety through her veins. An ember popped in the fire, and she froze, her breath caught in her lungs, as the man shifted again. She spotted a crown of thick blond hair, the faint outline of a strong jaw, before he was lost within the furs as he drew them over his face.

She would have breathed a sigh of relief had she not thought it would wake him.

Not daring to take any more chances, she moved quickly toward the leather pack and opened it to see what might be inside. She found combs, a bar of soap, linens, and a small knife. She could have cried at the lack of food, but she wasn't deterred and pushed aside what she didn't need.

She was almost distracted by a small pouch that felt heavy with stones. Silver or gold, no doubt. That could go farther than the few pieces she had in her purse.

It wasn't the time to let greed overtake her. She needed food more than precious metals, and stealing the latter was sure to have deadly costs.

With a modicum of disappointment, she brushed aside the pouch and found folded leathers near the bottom. She peeled them open with bated breath, and inwardly rejoiced at the long scraps of smoked meats hidden within. She didn't stop to think or check for dangers as she grabbed two pieces and spun away from the camp. She ran swiftly through the grass to another tree, slumped down against the trunk, and immediately shoved the food in her mouth.

It was simple and bland, but her starved tongue swore they were more delicious than the roast foul her mother used to make when she was a child, sweeter than the mead she stole from her once proud and just Jarl. It would hardly sate the hunger of days out in the wilderness, but it would hopefully ease the pain for another hour or two. She might find the energy to move north once more and find a village.

She froze when she heard the snap of a twig. Fear raced through her as she remembered the camp nearby. She was certain that she hadn't been caught. She had been careful. Maybe it was nothing more than the companion the gods sent her way?

She looked up, hoping to find the reindeer trotting toward her. She found nothing but darkness and the distant flickering of the camp's fire.

Sighing, she went back to the meat in her hands. It was probably just a hare, or maybe one of the horses.

That was what she thought until she heard a rumbling growl just over her left shoulder.

Her chest tightened as she stiffly turned toward the sound. She expected to find that wolf she feared…

She found far worse.

"Thief," the man snarled where he stood towering above her. It wasn't the man sleeping in the camp. His hair was too dark, brown as best she could tell in the darkness beneath her tree, and bound in a loose knot at the back of his head with a few strands falling loose around his temples. His large frame only seemed to grow as he came at her, the dark furs of his cloak making him seem like a monster straight out of her worst nightmares.

She screamed when he snatched her by the arm and hauled her up. The sound was quickly strangled as he slammed her back against the tree. He ripped the last piece of meat from her hand while his grip on her arm dug deep into wounded flesh.

"What else did you take?" he asked lowly, his fingers tightening until she whimpered and shrunk down.

Fire lanced through her shoulder. She felt sick to her stomach as fear and hunger gnawed at her gut. Even as she felt heat coursing through her injuries, her body felt chilled.

She shuddered.

"What else, woman?" her captor growled, his tone loud and impatient.

He shook her and she whimpered again, growing even smaller.

"Nothing," she forced herself to say through a gasp. She couldn't seem to fill her lungs, and her eyes stung as she looked up at him, pleading for mercy. "Just the few scraps. I swear I can pay you back for them. Just please…" She winced when his hand tightened again, and then gasped for a deep breath when the pain seemed to find her bruised side. Only the tree and his firm grip were keeping her on her feet. "Don't kill me," she begged, panting for air.

She felt dizzy, and she didn't know if it was from fear or her fever. It didn't really matter as she felt the world spinning around her before the ground seemed to give way and everything went black.

* * *

Eustass Kid had no patience for thieves. He did not forgive having his belongings rummaged through and taken by a stranger, even if it was a woman.

He had stepped away from camp for a few minutes to relieve himself and stretch his legs. His companion was asleep while he took up the first watch of the night. It was a boring task. The forest was peaceful and he didn't expect to encounter any enemies, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He probably could have dozed lightly against the tree without any problems arising, but something kept him awake, anyway.

He felt an unease in the still night.

When he returned to the camp, he caught movement away in the trees, but after a minute of straining to see in the darkness beyond and finding nothing, he shrugged it off and went to retake his seat by the fire. That was when he found his pack open and obviously rummaged through.

He growled in annoyance, tossed the bar of soap at his friend's head to rouse him, and stood to search out whoever dared touch his things.

When he found her crouched behind the tree, he hesitated for a split second. The tiny, frail woman looked more like a wounded animal than a thief. But then he watched her bite into the piece of smoked meat, and his anger returned.

He didn't think he was holding her that tight, but he saw pain in her eyes, nonetheless. Even through his annoyance, he could see she was pale. Despite the chill of the night air, her forehead glistened with sweat, and when he gripped her arm, he didn't miss the bitter, metallic scent of a poorly healing wound. He shouldn't have been so surprised when she fainted, but he stiffened despite himself as her head fell forward and body went limp. Instinct made him catch her, and he growled again as he clutched her to him.

"Kid?" his friend, Killer, called out, rustling through the underbrush until he reached the tree. "What did you do?" he asked in a reprimanding tone.

"Nothing," he bit out while arranging the woman in his arms. "I caught the thief and she fainted."

"She?" Killer moved closer, stunned that it was a woman who stole from their camp. "Why did she faint?"

He didn't like the unspoken accusation in his friend's voice. "I only grabbed her, damn it. I didn't do anything else." With another annoyed growl, he picked the woman up and tossed her over his shoulder. "And even if I did, who's to care. She's a vagrant and a thief. Maybe even a witch considering how easily she slipped into our camp without waking you."

"She's a woman, Kid," Killer reprimanded, moving away to allow him to lead the way back to their fire.

"I ain't blind. I can see she's a woman." Despite what he said, he still dropped her onto Killer's furs without any care for her comfort. At least he was putting her on furs.

"Kid," his friend rebuked, but he waved him off and crouched beside the woman to observe her in the light of the fire.

She was definitely ill. Her breathing was shallow, her pallor eerily white. Her pink lips were pale and dry, cracking from lack of water. Her hair was a soft amber that might have once been as bright as their fire, but seemed dull and matted where it wasn't bound in braids. Her dress was covered in mud and grass, and had likely seen far better days in the past, but still had a flattering fit for her slender, curving frame.

He hummed in thought. "She'll probably die in a few days. Wouldn't matter if I sped it along." He cocked his head to the side and smirked. "Though, clean her up, she'd be a pretty thing to have in bed. I could keep her as a slave for stealing from me."

His friend struck him sharply on the back of the head.

"What?" he shouted. "She's a vagrant and thief! I have a right to punish her however I see fit."

Killer smacked him again.

"Take a closer look. She isn't a common thief, and I doubt she's without a home." He gestured at the unconscious woman, and Kid grudgingly did as he said.

Frowning, he pushed back her cloak to take a better look at her. The cloak alone said Killer was right. It was made of finely woven brown wool, typical of most cloaks, but there were pieces that spoke of a gentle breeding. The inside was lined with soft white silk, the kind that only the richest could get through barter and trade with Frankish and Muslim merchants. A fur pelt wrapped around the shoulders, providing both a decorative trim and extra warmth.

The fur especially caught his eye.

"Lynx," he mused, fingers running through the soft fur. The collar was a golden brown that gracefully gave way to tawny shades and white, specks of black spotted the coat to give away its uniquely feline origins. Lynx fur was extremely rare to come by. The large predator was far too graceful and quick to be caught easily by hunters, and it usually lived in more remote regions of the mountains. Whoever commissioned that cloak paid a hefty price in gold for it.

His inspection moved to the rest of her. The dress he had already noticed was well crafted, but no more than what an average Jarl might provide a woman of his household. The white underdress was made of good linen, as was the shorter blue apron dress above it. But then he noticed the finer embroidery braided along the bust, and the woven leather belt at her waist. It was more decorative than practical with piece of green and yellow string weaving through it, another expense not bestowed on most.

The oval brooches fastening the straps of the apron dress in place had his eyes widening in surprise. They were gold and engraved with the prowling forms of two large cats on each. The design stirred up images of Freyja and her chariot, images only strengthened by the amber and gold beaded strings hanging between them over the bust of her dress.

His shock urged him to brush more of her cloak aside and snatch her left hand from where it had fallen to rest on her stomach. He had caught sight of the gold bangle when he found her, but hadn't looked close enough to think it more than decoration, even assumed it was just a cheap forgery. Sure enough, the luster of gold was real, as were the protection runes carved on the inside of the band. Paired with the golden bracelet, she also wore another band of woven leather that fit tight to her wrist, a large amber stone set in the top, with smaller beads sprinkled amidst the knots.

Needless to say, he found himself extremely confused. What was a thief doing with so much fine garb and jewelry? And all so closely linked to the goddess many among the svear revered as one of their most benevolent and sacred?

He sat back on his haunches, eyes narrowed in thought as he considered all the possibilities. And then a more important question came to him.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" he asked aloud. She was completely alone in the wilderness. Starving to death, judging by her theft, and deathly ill.

"That's something to ask her when she wakes, but in the meantime we should take care of her," Killer informed, moving to crouch on the other side of the woman.

He was torn at that. Pride and anger still burned in his chest. She stole from him. Even if it was only a few scraps of meat, she still committed a terrible offense. The last thing he cared to do was treat her kindly.

But…

His eyes lingered on the feline etchings of her brooches. If she was someone special to the gods, he couldn't treat her ill, not unless he wished to invoke their wrath.

And then his gaze fell upon her belt where a small purse hung at her hip. It was trimmed with deer fur and closed with a silver clip. She said she could pay him.

"Her shoulder's injured," he informed, pointing to her left arm before going to pull the small purse from her belt. As he took it, he spotted the small hand axe hanging loosely at her side. The crescent was well kept, and the decorative knot work etched into the blade looked to be inlayed with silver. Another expensive piece.

While Killer went to undo her cloak and inspect her injuries, Kid dug into the purse. He found a leather bound knife tucked in the bottom, its handle an ornate ivory that he guessed came from a walrus tusk. The woman was far from a poor vagrant, only leaving him to further wonder on her origins.

He stuffed those questions aside when he found ten pieces of silver. More than enough to cover the food she took, as well as compensate for a few days of care and protection. He grinned at that. The next time he was in battle, surely the gods would give him good favor for the honor he's bestowed on the mysterious woman.

Killer hissing drew him from his selfish thoughts, and he glanced up to see his friend peeling away the bloodstained sleeve of her dress.

"Apologies, young lady," the blond muttered before pulling out his knife and cutting the fabric away. She had tried to bind it with strips of cloth that Kid noticed were missing around the hem of her dress, but it was poor treatment given her condition. As Killer peeled away the bits of fabric, Kid wrinkled his nose at the smell of infection that came from the deep gash in her arm.

"It looks rotten," Kid assessed, leaning over the prone woman to grasp her arm and pull it into the light so he could see it better. He froze when she whimpered and her unconscious expression tightened with pain.

"Gentle, Kid," his friend lectured, swatting him away. "Put a knife in the fire," he ordered before turning toward his own pack resting against the base of the tree. "It might be wise to bring her back with us. She'll be better off with our healers tending to her than either of us."

Kid grunted in acknowledgement as he grabbed one of his hunting knives and stuck the blade into the fire pit. It wasn't a bad idea.

"And I don't think it's rotten," Killer mused, and Kid looked over to see him inspecting the shoulder intently.

"But it's all blue and stinks like death."

Killer's brows scrunched as he gently eased the woman onto her other side. This time she didn't stir in the least.

"It's definitely not healing properly, but I think if I just let the bad blood out and cauterize it, she'll be fine. This coloring, though…" He trailed off as he ran his fingers over her shoulder, and then his brows disappeared into the fringe of his blond bangs. "It's a tattoo."

"What?" Kid asked and came to lean over her again to see the purposeful design curling over her shoulder and arm that looked reminiscent of a fish, maybe a shark. It was rare to see a woman with tattoos, at least among noble-women. Some shieldmaidens who had completely forsaken the typical life of a female and taken up arms might have some decorations to wear into battle, but even that was rare. Occasionally a priestess wore some runes on her skin, but rarely in a permanent fashion, and this wasn't a rune. Some thralls were marked, but most of those were slaves traded or taken from other lands to the south and east, and some of those markings were all they had left of their native cultures. But a free-woman of the north, dressed in fine silks and furs befitting a noble – to bear a tattoo was unheard of. Yet another mystery to the woman in their care. "Who would mark a woman like that?"

"We'll have to ask her when she wakes," Killer said with a sigh and went back to work on the wound. "Fill the pot with fresh water and heat it," he ordered. "And get whatever clean linens you have."

Kid grumbled, but gathered what his friend required while Killer ran a cloth over his knife to clean it and set upon reopening the wound. By the time he had let out the foul smelling blood, Kid had returned with warmed water and the cloth from his pack.

"This is deep," he heard Killer muse, "she'll likely have a scar."

"Hope that tattoo wasn't important to her," Kid said, taking in the gash that cut along the bottom of the shark.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to be alive," Killer remarked as he rinsed out the wound and patted it dry. "The knife," he prompted, and Kid moved to pull the blade from the fire, the metal glowing a hot yellow. "Hold her down. She might wake with this."

Kid immediately grabbed her other arm, wrapping it up in one of his to prevent her from lashing out at the man treating her wound, while bracing her head and shoulders against his thigh with the other as he sat on the ground.

Killer had been right. The moment the scalding blade touch her injured flesh, her eyes shot open and back arched off the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out, while the hand that had been held near his bicep, scratched and clawed at his brown tunic. A few heartbeats later, she fell limp again.

While Killer spread salve over the burn and wrapped it in clean linen, Kid found himself staring down at the sleeping woman. Her breathing was still harsh, and as he brushed back the strands of hair clinging to her face, he found her forehead hot to the touch.

"She has a fever," he informed, while idly grazing his hand over the braids knotted over her scalp.

"The skin around her cut was hot, too. It's likely what made her sick."

"That, and starving to death."

"That, too," Killer agreed.

Kid gently detached her hand from where it still loosely clung to his arm. He frowned at the slim fingers easily swallowed by his larger hand. "Rest of her's freezing," he said, instinct urging him to rub her frigid hand in his to warm it. "How long has she been out here?"

"The wound is fairly recent. Only a few days old. For her to be this hungry and sick, could be nearly a week that she's been out in the elements," Killer guessed. "Another question for her."

Kid grunted. He had a lot of questions to ask her. So many that he found all his anger buried beneath endless curiosity.

Most pressing of all – What did the Norns have woven for them?

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Thanks everyone for the nice reviews on the first chapter. I do hope you all enjoy this fic._

 _As I said in the last chapter's author note: I'm using more modern day geographical locations, but I've also decided that I'm going to use Swedish and Norwegian words (sparingly, and hopefully correctly), to stand in the place of how these people would refer to each other or certain countries in Old Norse. For example: Noregi = Norway in Old Norse_ _(According to what I found, it had at least become the more common word for it, and it's probably better than using norðmaðr which would have all of you that much more confused. I was originally thinking of just using Norge, the current term for Norway in Norwegian Bokmål - a language I once tried to learn decades ago, and still want to learn *sigh*). Also the word, 'svear' is an old term referring to 'Swedes'. More of where Nami is from (at least the village) will be discussed in the next chapter, but I'll say it's technically Götaland which is part of present day Sweden... From what I've gathered, though, by about the point I'm placing this fic, it had been integrated into Sweden... possibly. Nami's actual birthplace, though, is quite firmly in Sweden (Svealand around this time period, from what I've found). Again, more on that in later chapters._

 _As much as I am enjoying my research for this, it is making me go cross-eyed at times._

 _And yes, that was Chopper and Kureha making an appearance. I'll touch on the mythological connection I made for them in the next chapter._

 _I also made creative leaps in terms of Nami's tattoo. There seem to be debates on whether or not Northmen had worn tattoos (I like to think they did, but that's because I love tattoos), and they seem to be more associated with the Viking raiders, not so much those left at home, so I took some liberties with that part of the culture._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The First Thread Woven_

The night carried on peacefully with Killer taking up bedside guard beneath the tree, one of his extra pelts wrapped around his shoulders to ward off the cold. Kid took to the fire after his friend forced him to relinquish his cloak for the sick woman. He knew she needed the extra warmth more than he did, but he had already spared her for stealing from him, he didn't want to part with any of his comforts for her sake.

He still draped the heavy fur cloak over her after Killer finished arranging his pelts into a more comfortable bed for her close to the fire, but he cursed her endlessly for it until he hunkered onto a log opposite her prone form. He spent the first hour glaring at the fire until his eyes watered. It was better than staring at her, though his gaze still crept toward her from time to time, as did his thoughts. Blinding himself in the flames provided a temporary distraction from the questions he wasn't likely to have answered until the morning, assuming she managed to wake from her fevered state.

After that first hour, he found he was too restless to remain there. He couldn't explain what was bothering him that night. He couldn't entirely blame it on the woman, though he swore she was a large part of his agitation, but even before she appeared, he couldn't stifle the crawling sensation of being watched.

The forest around them was perfectly still, had been the whole night, save for the moment he caught the trace movement from the woman hiding outside their camp. Other than her existence, he would have sworn their camp had been cut off from the rest of the world, an island of peace and safety in a world that was anything but. It was likely why Killer had slept through the woman's thievery.

That didn't sit right with him.

He felt no danger, but that only made him raise his guard even higher than he typically would. A world with no threat was likely hiding dangers far worse than he could imagine. Was it witchcraft? Was it the gods? Was this a test or a trap? He didn't think it a test, that came with battle, and there were no battles to be had around him. That meant a trap, and possibly the woman was bait, which meant he had already been snared.

That made him angry again.

Instead of taking it out on the unconscious woman, Kid stood from the fire and stalked off toward their horses. He had nothing better to do, and he wasn't going to wander too far from camp and leave Killer to fight alone should his unease prove well founded.

He checked the bags he had hung in the tree with additional provisions – mostly dry bread and nuts, but he had some extra strips of smoked meat hidden in there. Everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be, so she had only searched through the bag within her reach. She was certainly desperate, but smart enough to take the easy target. With that worry eased, Kid checked the horses and then grabbed one of their bows and a few arrows to keep nearby, just in case.

He still felt as though he were being watched.

When he settled down by the fire again, he snatched the sword he kept hidden behind his fallen log, and the whetstone he had within his pack, and set to work sharpening his blade. It would keep his hands busy, and if he was lucky, his mind, too.

He caught Killer frowning at him from the trunk of the tree.

"What?" he grunted, fixing his attention on the sword in his lap.

"Something wrong?" Killer asked quietly, mindful of the sleeping woman.

"No. Not particularly," he lied while carefully smoothing his whetstone over the steel.

Killer hummed and slowly pushed himself up to come closer to the fire. "You've been restless all night, and now you're sharpening your sword… _again_. I can't help but think something's troubling you."

Kid scowled at his friend's assessment and refused to answer.

Killer sighed heavily, and sank down between he and the woman.

"Is it her?"

"Not really," he said. It technically wasn't a lie. He had been agitated before she came around. "The forest is too still."

"It's a peaceful spot. That's why we picked it."

"Something's watching us, though."

"I haven't seen anyone or any _thing_ come around." Killer stole a look at the woman. "Except for her."

Kid hummed, eyes narrowing on a gleam of light from the fire that reflected off the polished blade.

"Do you think someone's looking for her?" Killer asked then, staring thoughtfully at their charge.

Kid's brow rose. "I'd be more surprised if there wasn't. That ain't what's bothering me… Though, watch this woman lead an army of her kin straight to us, and then have us mistaken for abductors." He barked a laugh. "Now that'd be a way to repay my kindness. Maybe we can ransom her."

His friend rebuked him with a sharply spoken "Kid," but he waved off the warning.

"Gotta find out her story first, see if she's even worth a ransom." He ignored Killer's responding sigh and went back to work on his sword.

He could practically feel his friend roll his eyes. He ignored that, too.

They sat in silence, the only sounds around them the crackling of their fire and the steel edge of his sword passing over the whetstone. Stillness sank into the forest, just as it had all night. Nothing else seemed to exist outside of the yew tree's reach.

Until he heard the soft snap of a twig.

He was up in a flash, sword gripped tight in his hand as he searched the dark forest around him. Killer stood near him, his guard up as he looked around, too. His eyes settled on a spot of tan that somehow glowed in the pre-dawn mist, and he listened to Killer sigh.

"It's just a deer," Killer said, tension melting from him. "You're being paranoid over an animal."

Kid growled in annoyance but set down his sword in favor of the bow and arrows nearby. There was something strange about the animal. It seemed as though it were trying to hide behind the trunk of an elm tree, but it's body stuck out; an easy target.

"I could go for a good flank of roast venison," Kid mused as he knocked an arrow and aimed. "And killing something might make me feel better."

He waited for one breath and then let his arrow loose. Right as his fingers released, he heard the hoarse call of a woman, and then the animal kicked away from the tree. His arrow missed it by a hair, and Kid growled in annoyance as he grabbed another arrow.

"Wait, Kid," Killer said, gripping his arm to restrain him. "Don't kill it."

"What? Why?" he grunted, and glanced over his shoulder at the other man.

"What's a reindeer doing this far south?" Killer gestured toward the animal that was bounding away. "And without his herd?"

Kid frowned and stared after the animal. His scowl deepened as he watched it pause in its escape to look back at them. He didn't know what to make of it when he saw glittering eyes settle on the woman sleeping in their camp.

They heard a woman call again, and the animal bounded off in the direction her voice came, their gazes following after the young buck. Kid felt his jaw drop when he caught a faint, eerie glow sweep between birch and elm; the form of a woman walking away. Silver grey hair hung down her back in waves, and she was clad in a yellow and blue dress, gold rings wrapping around her waist and upper arms. She held a long, twisted wooden staff that she appeared to use as a cane, but he had a suspicion she used it for something else entirely.

She glanced back, letting him see a weathered face that belied her ageless aura.

She smiled and then nodded toward their unconscious ward. Kid and Killer turned to gape at the woman beneath their furs, and when they looked back to the woman and the reindeer that had been trotting alongside her, they found both had vanished into the night.

As did the creeping unease of being watched.

Kid looked back at the woman on the other side of the fire. His eyes narrowed as he watched her smile in her sleep and nestle under the furs.

"Was that…?" Killer began to ask, still stunned at what they just witnessed. "Eir?"

Kid grunted. He couldn't really be sure. If it was, he didn't know why the goddess might have appeared in the form of a crone, with a reindeer, of all creatures. All he knew was that they were certainly responsible for bringing the starved and sick woman into his care. At least one question had been answered, though it left a hundred new ones in its wake.

He sunk down to his log again and set a heavy glare on the woman across the fire from him.

She had better wake. And soon.

* * *

Nami's pains had fallen away as she sunk into a sea of darkness. A part of her thought that she should be afraid as the black swallowed her up, but she couldn't find the energy to fear it.

The dark was warm.

She could have remained there forever. No pain. No cold. No hunger. No fear. Floating in a peaceful void more comfortable than what she knew in the waking world.

But then the nightmare returned.

This time the dream that came was filled with vivid, inescapable detail, even in its continued intangibility. A giant loomed over them, his blue skin covered in dirt and sweat and blood, his lips curled in a fanged snarl threatening to devour his prey without remorse. The fear that was missing in her void came back to course through her veins, freezing her in place as the giant moved through the smoke and haze. He would kill all of them.

All of them, except for her.

He intended to possess her.

This time when she saw the wolf, he was struggling to stand. He bore his own frothing snarl as he growled at the monster bearing down on him. The fur around one eye was matted with blood and forced to close. The other was open, letting her see the rusty brown iris set on the giant stalking toward it.

There was a flash of movement. A scream strangled in her throat. A sea of red.

She shot up gasping for air, eyes wide and burning with tears. Her side throbbed while pain once more lanced through her arm, nearly making her crumple back to the furs beneath her.

As the dream cleared, her conscious mind finally took note of those furs. She stared at the pelts before taking a look around, trying to remember where she was and how she came to be sleeping in such a warm make-shift bed.

She stifled a scream when she found a man sitting across the fire from her, a knife stuck in the stomach of a fish as he sat watching her, frozen with an expression she could only describe as abject horror. It took her a moment longer to realize he was the man who caught her stealing from his provisions, what she thought to be brown hair in the dark actually turned out to be a deep, crimson red in the light of early morning. The recognition pushed her to scramble away, but she was hampered by the furs and her injuries. Her hand clumsily sought out the axe that had been hanging at her hip. Her search came up empty and she realized there was no way he'd leave her armed.

Though she wondered how he could leave her alive after finding her.

"Kid, what did you do?" another man spoke up as he came toward the camp, a wooden bowl in his hands with water sloshing over the side.

The man across from her shook away his horrified look to glare at his friend. "I didn't do anything," he said in defense, pulling his knife from the fish to wave around. "She just woke up like that."

Nami watched, wide-eyed with fear, as the two men settled on glaring at each other. She recognized the blond as the one who had been sleeping when she crept into their camp. His long hair fell halfway down his back in a loose braid. He was tall, his frame built with lean muscle beneath a blue linen shirt.

His scowl relaxed with a long sigh, and he turned to her with a hint of a smile. She watched him warily as he went to set the bowl by the fire. He pulled a small silver cup from a leather bag, scooped it in the water, and then turned to offer it to her. She shrunk away instinctively. Even if the men were showing her kindness, she refused to let her guard down. They were strangers. Strangers she had stolen from. By all rights they should be doing their worst to her.

The man across the fire from her, _Kid_ his friend had called him, sighed heavily and went back to gutting the fish in his hand. "Just take the damn water, woman. He ain't gonna bite."

She glanced toward the blond, still uncertain, but when his brow rose expectantly, she took the cup and gave him a grateful nod. She took a sip of the water and felt all tension leave her as it washed down her parched throat. As she eagerly drank the rest of it, the blond turned back to the fire and the fish they had skewered over it. The camp drifted into silence for a whole of one minute.

"Alright, now that you're awake – What the fuck is going on with you?" the red-haired man growled, the end of his knife pointed at her. "Who are you? Why are ya out here wandering around by yourself? Why'd you think it was a good idea to steal from me? And why in the world should I forgive you for it?"

"Kid," the blond reprimanded while Nami leaned away, her fear returning in the face of a strained temper.

"I got a lot of questions, and I want answers," said Kid.

"She just woke up," the other sighed. "At least ask one question at a time."

Kid growled, and then huffed, turning back to her with a glare. "What's your name?"

She pursed her lips in thought and glanced between both men. When the red-head growled impatiently, she cleared her throat and shifted to sit straight in the fur bed they had given her. They had spared her whatever punishment she was due, and let her sleep in their camp. It wouldn't hurt to answer some of their questions.

"Nami," she answered.

Kid's shoulders relaxed with a grunt, and he used his knife to gesture at his friend. "Right. Well, that's Killer…" Her eyes went wide at that name, and she swallowed down the urge to whimper. He had to be a mercenary to have that sort of name. That couldn't bode well for her. "And I'm Kid," he finished, ignoring her unease as he went back to gutting and skewering their fish. "Where are you from?"

She really didn't want to answer that question, but when he slanted a narrow-eyed gaze up at her, she felt she had little choice. "Svealand." His brow rose expectantly, not satisfied with that broad answer. "Tingstad, Götaland."

This time his brows furrowed. He had no idea where that was, and as far as she was concerned, he didn't _need_ to know.

After a minute he grunted and went back to work. She knew he was far from done with his questions, but seemed to be pondering which to ask next.

"How'd you get here?"

"I sailed," she answered shortly and was once again met with an expectant look. "What?"

"Where are the people you sailed here with?" he asked, placing the fish over the fire and then leaning over his knees to stare at her. She had his full, undivided attention. That was going to be annoying. He gestured at her with his knife, and while she knew it wasn't meant to be threatening, she still inched back and swallowed thickly. A whole fire might be between them, but she wouldn't put it past him to charge right through it. "Yer dressed too nicely to be a vagrant, and got plenty of silver in your purse to pay for a crew to transport you to wherever you were goin'. So what's a woman like you wandering around the forest with an infected arm, starving to death, by herself? I ain't buyin' that you sailed here alone. Not through the straits. Would've been suicide."

She huffed. "Well, I did. I got caught in a storm and my boat turned over. I washed up on shore a few days ago." Then she realized what else he had just said, and sat up straight to pat at her waist for her purse. Wide eyes snapped to him. "You took my purse!"

He snorted an amused laugh and reached behind his log to pull out the leather purse that had been on her belt. Waving it side to side, he said, "You offered to pay me for the food you stole, and while we were tending to your arm, I figured I'd help myself to our just compensation and the fine for your theft."

"Those scraps were not worth that much silver, you thief! Give that back!" she shouted, flinging her furs away to prepare to stand. How dare he take her belongings!

He glared. "I don't want to be called that by _you_ , woman. And the scraps might not be worth much, but I think we're due something for patching up that wound." He gestured to her left arm and the clean wrappings over the gash there. She glowered at her torn dress while he continued. "On top of that, we let you sleep in our camp and even stood watch."

"That's still not worth ten ounces of silver," she argued. "Two, maybe. Not ten."

Kid shrugged indifferently. "Well, once we find out where you're headed, we might be willing to consider escorting you there." Now he was grinning, and she clutched at her empty cup, overcome with the urge to throw it at him. "That's easily worth another five, barring it's a peaceful journey, but if you're on the run, or someone attacks us, then it's only fair we're reimbursed for protecting you."

She growled, grasping onto her anger at his blatant attempt at robbery to find the energy to stand. She ignored the ache lingering in her side, and the shooting pain in her arm that came as she pushed off the furs. She blinked away a wave of dizziness the moment she was on her feet.

"I don't need your protection," she said as coldly as she could, glaring at the man who was now frowning back at her. "I'll give you three ounces of silver as thanks for your hospitality and mercy. Return the rest of my things, and I'll be on my way."

Kid's eyes raked over her, his scowl deepening. She straightened her back, head held high, and tried not to wince when it only served to make her side cramp. When he looked back up at her, he smiled.

"Alright." He held out her purse but made no move to get up. "Take it."

"I had an axe, too," she bit out, bracing herself where she stood.

"It's right over here," he said, smile growing as he nodded behind him where she spotted the smooth handle of her weapon peeking out over the log he sat on.

He still made no move to stand. He was intent on making her suffer, no doubt. Bastard.

"Kid, just give it back to her," Killer urged, glowering at his friend.

"No. If she thinks she can walk away and find where she needs to be on her own, then she can take a few steps to reclaim her property," Kid said flatly, a silent warning passed to his friend that said she would have no further help from the blond. Despite his name, he seemed far more reasonable, but he ultimately wasn't the one in charge. "It's all of three steps, maybe four. You can handle that, can't you, Nami?"

She sneered, which only seemed to amuse him as he waved her purse out toward her. She should have thrown that cup at his head.

With an indignant huff, she took a step toward him, careful not to put too much weight on her injured side. She swayed with her next step when she felt her hip protest, but shook it off when she saw Kid's observant gaze snap down to watch the unsteady movement. Taking a deep breath, she made the last two steps as quickly as she could and snatched her purse from his hand the second it was in reach.

He was scowling again.

"Guess you're all healed up. Miracle of the gods, I'm sure," Kid said sarcastically as he turned to grab her axe and hold it out to her. She ripped it from his hand with an annoyed glare, and slipped it into her belt before searching through her bag to see everything was still there.

When she found all her silver, she took out three pieces and held it over to him. "Here. As promised. And now I'll be on my way. Thank you for your kindness."

Kid grunted and held his palm out for her to drop the silver into his hand. He turned back to the fire, silently dismissing her.

That was easy. Easier than she anticipated. Now she just had to grab her cloak from where it lay beside the furs, and she could head off toward the north again. Hopefully putting as much distance as possible between her and the men.

And then her stomach just had to growl.

"You're welcome to stay for a meal," Kid said blandly, gaze still on the fish over the fire as he turned them over. "It'll cost you a few more ounces of silver, of course."

He wasn't looking at her when she shot him a hard look, but he surely heard her hiss before she spun on her heel, still intent on leaving. Certainly she was grateful to them for helping her, but they were strangers, and she had no reason to trust them. She was better off alone.

And there was no way she was parting with what little valuables she had left.

She got two steps from Kid when she had to pause as her vision turned spotty and her whole body felt heavy with fatigue. She swayed, and then felt a strong hand grip her arm to keep her upright. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Kid standing behind her, sickly amused, and glowered at him.

"Let go of me," she warned, weakly tugging at her arm.

His brow rose, but he released her without argument.

Her legs immediately gave without his support. Before she could crumple to the ground, he moved fast to snatch her up by the arm and toss her over his shoulder. She cried out when her bruised side landed on his hard frame and nearly passed out from the pain clawing through her abdomen. She wanted to scream and curse the man, but she could barely catch her breath until he dumped her back onto the fur bed.

"Looks to me like you're stuck with us a while longer, woman," Kid said, grinning down at her.

She tried to glare, but she imagined it wasn't as potent as she wished it to be with her pants for air. Her head felt as if it were on fire, but icy cold at the same time, and her mind spun even as she sat safely on the ground. She watched his eyes trail to the side she was clutching, his amusement waning as he crouched in front of her.

"What's wrong there?" he asked, gesturing to the spot she held.

"It's just a bruise," she hissed tiredly. "If you hadn't manhandled me like a sack of rye, it'd be just fine."

He glared. "If I hadn't treated you like a sack of rye, you would have fallen straight into our fire, so deal with it, woman." She growled, but he shot her a hard look of warning that made her instinctively back down. He was terrifyingly large, and even if she were healthy, she would be completely defenseless against him. "You're stuck with us for the time being. We'll head off to my village after we eat. We should be roughly a day's ride away. Once you're there, I'll have my healers take a look at you."

"And I expect you'll want to help yourself to the rest of my purse?" She sneered.

Kid's brow rose. Humming, he cocked his head to the side. "Depends on my mood when we get there. You obviously have nowhere else to go right now. A woman can always make herself useful in a home, and I'm sure we can put you to work once you're well enough. You can work off your debts to me, and have a place to stay in the meantime."

Her eyes widened at the offer. It was surprisingly generous.

"Then again, I might be sick of your face and whining by the end of it, and want nothing more to do with you. Then I'd rather have your silver than see you around my village," he added with that wide grin he seemed to favor.

She hissed in annoyance but knew better than to argue. He had a point. She had nowhere else to go and she _could_ use a place to stay. She had set out without any destination in mind, only the need to escape Jarl Arlong's ambitions and intentions. She had the Skagerrak and some of the Kattegat between them now, he shouldn't be able to find her any time soon.

It would only be temporary, she told herself.

"I'd be happy to repay my debts to you that way," she forced herself to say with a false smile.

"Smart woman," he chuckled, and patted her head as he picked himself up. She swatted him away, but he ignored her ire. "Killer, give her some food."

As Kid made his way back to his log, Killer dug out a plate for one of the fish that was done cooking, along with a handful of berries and nuts from a pouch.

"You'll get used to him," the blond whispered as he held over the meal.

Nami frowned at the remark. No, she wouldn't get used to him. To either of them. She'd take advantage of their unexpected kindness until she had a direction to go in. She couldn't stay long enough to grow used to their behavior.

When he moved away to eat, and Kid settled in with his own well served plate, Nami thought she might be spared any further questioning. Killer didn't appear talkative, save for the moments he rebuked his friend for his attitude, and Kid seemed too engrossed in his meal to think back to the conversation she had averted in favor of reclaiming her things.

She unfortunately thought wrong.

"What made you leave... Where was it? _Tingstad_?" He stared at her with furrowed brows to gauge whether he remembered correctly. He brushed off her silence, as if the place was unimportant. It was, as far as she was concerned, so she was fine with that. "Why'd you leave that place by yourself? I still don't think there's any way you could have sailed that far alone."

"I did," she said, sighing. "I admit, it was reckless, but I had little choice." He grunted to bid she elaborate on that, and she sighed again. "It's not your business to know."

He looked up sharply. "If I'm bringing you into my village and home, then you'd better think again. I need to know if there's people looking for you."

She pursed her lips, unwilling to confirm that suspicion.

"You have any kin?" he asked, voice low with impatience.

"No." It was the truth. She had no blood kin left in all of Svealand, at least.

His eyes narrowed. "Truly? No brother? No father? No uncle that might come to claim you?"

"No," she repeated, shaking her head.

"Then a Jarl or King? Fine clothes like that, you had to be in a good house," he pressed on. "Is a warlord going to come searching for you?"

She couldn't look at him as she shook her head. There was something about the weight of his gaze, as though he were reading every movement she made to see if she was lying.

She heard him growl, and looked up to see his sneer.

"Nami," Killer interrupted before his friend could lose his temper. "He might not look it, but Kid is a Jarl." Her eyes widened as she looked upon the slowly calming man across the fire. "If he brings you into his household, he can provide protection from another Jarl if you seek it. But we need to know what kind of danger you might bring to our people."

She brushed away her shock to settle an appraising gaze on Kid. "You're a Jarl?" she asked, one part out of disbelief, and another part out to avoid that course of conversation.

"Just as he said." Kid nodded. "Jarl Eustass of Drafn."

She snorted. "And how did you accomplish that? Kill the last Jarl?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

Her jaw dropped. She had asked that question in jest. Even if he certainly looked like a cold-blooded killer, she hadn't put him so low.

"You usurped him?" she asked, still surprised. She was quickly beginning to rethink their offer of aide.

Kid's eyes narrowed. "I was given the title," he explained. "Though it ain't any of your business how. We're talking about you and who you're running from, not my battles."

She couldn't trust him, she realized that now. He was just as ambitious as _him_ , and apparently just as bloodthirsty. She wanted nothing to do with men like that.

"If that's the case, I'd be far better off on my own than with a man who will slaughter innocent people for his own gain."

"Then you'll be hard pressed to find a man to protect you. Or are you that ignorant of what we do when we go raiding other lands?" Kid bit out, temper dangerously thin again.

"Those aren't Northmen you fight," she reasoned.

"No, but they're still people, flesh and blood humans like the rest of us, though I'll admit many of them are far from innocent. And who said I slaughtered anyone innocent in gaining my Jarldom?" he asked, brow cocked high. "I'm not a good man, but there are plenty out there who make me look like a cute little pup."

"Are you saying your former Jarl is one of them?"

Kid considered her closely for a moment before answering. When he looked down, his shoulders relaxing, and dug back into his fish, she wondered if he wasn't going to bother.

"He was a lowlife jerk who robbed his people of their lands and share of wealth from the raids," Kid explained. "Killer had a farm in his territory, right on the river, and I had myself a small parcel that abutted his with a boathouse. I built all of the Jarl's ships since I was sixteen. We had a deal that I'd get a certain allotment from the raids in compensation for my work, both at home, and in battle against the Saxons. I knew he was holding out on me and everyone, but I got to build my ships and fight, so I didn't really care. I'd get my due in the end."

He paused, glancing up to see that she was listening, and then continued on with a grunt.

"Couple years ago, I found out he was killing some of the neighboring karls and seizing their land in his name. The other farmers began to take up arms against him, and came to us asking for help. I wasn't too inclined to lend them a hand at first, but then that bastard tried to claim some of Killer's lands, and I couldn't ignore the threat any longer." He looked entirely unaffected as he told his story, even shrugged at the thought of his neighbors being harmed. He obviously cared about his friend more than he did any of the others, but apparently the rest of the area hadn't mattered much to him. At least that was what she thought until he growled and clenched his hand in a fist. "Found out the bastard had taken some measures to keep me from finding out just how much he was screwing me and my friends over, too. One of the healers I knew – sewed his mouth shut to keep him from talking after he overheard the Jarl talking with his brother about me."

"So you killed him and took his title," Nami summed up the rest of it before he dove into the more personal offenses of the former Jarl.

"I didn't take it," Kid growled. "As I said, it was given to me. I led the revolt and killed that bastard. When it was all over, I sat down with the farmers to divide the land he took from them, and they all agreed to name me the new Jarl."

He was mincing words. It sounded as though he took charge on his own once the previous Jarl was dead, and the other land-owners just didn't dare contest it. He had killed his predecessor, though. Typically, that made him the Jarl, barring there was no one to inherit the title by blood relation.

"What of the man's kin?" she asked once that thought came to her. "You said you didn't kill anyone innocent."

"I killed him and his brother. His wife chose to follow her husband into death," he explained grimly. "They had one daughter left. Their sons had died in past battles. I sent the daughter to live with her mother's family."

At least he hadn't held her hostage. He could have married her to one of his men, or himself, to cement his claim.

Kid shifted and leaned forward with a knowing grin as she thought on his tale. She stared back, confused with the look.

"So who's this usurper you're runnin' from?" he asked, his smile widening at the same time her eyes did. "All this bitchin' about how I got my title, it's obvious now why you're running. Someone killed your Jarl, and you escaped in the confusion of battle."

She glowered at the astute guess, though he was off with some of his assumptions. He wasn't going to let the topic lie until he got a satisfying answer, though.

"My Jarl isn't dead," she explained in a tone of sullen defeat. "He was enslaved."

Both men went wide-eyed at that. It was a grave insult to do that to a former Jarl. At least Kid allowed his predecessor the honor of dying in battle.

"This usurper sounds like a bigger bastard than me," Kid said thoughtfully.

She silently agreed as she picked at the thin fish bones and grey skin left on her plate.

"He killed my mother, and has kept me hostage for the past eight years," she finished quietly, hoping the thick despair she let creep into her voice would hint that they not tread on the subject any longer.

"Eight years?" Kid asked, apparently unsympathetic to her feelings. "And you're just now running?"

"I was just a child then. Where would a ten-year-old run?"

"And what would this man need of a ten-year-old, anyway?" he asked skeptically.

"He's a maniac! How would I know!?" she shrieked. She knew exactly what Arlong was thinking when he kept her, but Kid absolutely did not need to know that much about her. "I thought he only meant to keep me hostage to keep the rest of the village in line. They wouldn't question his taxes and fines if they thought I was in danger."

"So you were that special, huh? But the former Jarl wasn't blood kin, according to you. So what was your relation to him?"

"I was his ward," she said firmly. It was close to the truth. "He had adopted me into his household."

Kid hummed, eyes sweeping over her in thought. "So why'd you choose now to run? You're still as helpless as a child out here right now."

"His ambition was becoming dangerous for me," she answered in cryptic honesty. "I'm better off on my own."

Another hum followed by a nod, and Kid seemed to accept the story. She could have breathed a sigh of relief if she didn't know that it would give away that there was more to her than that.

"One more question," Kid began as he finished off the last of his fish. "How'd you come stumbling upon our camp without either of us noticing?"

Nami stared blankly for a moment, and then let out a wry laugh. "Would you believe me if I said a reindeer carried me here?"

Kid and Killer shared a look, the former snorting as he bowed his head to hide a faint smirk. "Actually… I would," he said, much to her surprise.

She was left to ponder that answer for the rest of the morning.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** About Eir/Kureha - there seem to be some disagreements among scholars about whether Eir was a goddess or a valkyrie (or just a general term for any supernatural/ mystical healer). There's even some thoughts that she could be related to the Norns (Fates) and a practitioner of seid (or seidhr or any number of spellings, which is a form of magic which will be heavily incorporated/referenced later on). Obviously in this context I went with goddess. But that was my preference. She's usually described as looking younger, but we all know Kureha swears she looks young, so whatever. It was just too good a fit for Kureha to play a minor role, as ambiguous as it was._

 _As for reindeer, and thus Chopper, in Norse mythology - I couldn't really find anything for him, but the gods are known to use animals as guides and protectors and messengers, so it works with the liberties I'm taking. The closest I found was the theory that Santa's reindeer were taken from Thor's chariot which was pulled by two magical goats. Reindeer at least definitely exist in Scandinavia. I even learned that reindeer herding is a legally protected livelihood for the Sami, an indigenous population living in the farthest north regions Scandinavia and parts of Russia. But other than that, I failed to find a good mythological context for him. But it doesn't matter. He needed to save Nami. Because that's what he does._

 _And as you can see, Nami's eighteen in this, so Kid's twenty-one, and Killer's twenty-five._

 _Thanks again for the reviews so far._


	4. Chapter 4

_Before you get into this super long (and maybe highly informative) chapter, I would like to point out a mistake I made (and subsequently fixed) in regards to the name of Kid's village. I used the current name of the city his village is taken from (Drammen), when I intended to use the Old Norse name for it, which is Drafn. The reason I picked this city is in part because of location, but also because of the name. It's name is derived from the Old Norse word_ _drǫfn_ _, which means 'wave'. And we all know what Nami's name means - which comes into play later in this chapter - so hopefully you can guess my reason for picking it._

 _Also I wrote poetry/lyrics for this chapter for the first time in... forever. Please go easy on me with that._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _A Tale of Knots_

Nami was hesitant to go anywhere with the two men. No matter how merciful they were in taking her in, she knew better than to easily trust strangers. But letting them take her to their village was far better than the alternative. She doubted she could survive another day or two alone, not with a fever.

She would take advantage of their unexpected kindness only long enough to ensure her survival. She only needed a fortnight, maybe a month at the absolute most, and then she would pick a new direction to head. Remaining with anyone for too long would be dangerous, not only for herself, but for any who took her in. She would keep moving until she felt it safe to settle down somewhere. Arlong surely wouldn't search for her come the winter, and would likely assume she died if he heard no news come the next spring.

Then again, he spent years following dead legends until he found her. One winter might not be enough.

As the men packed up their camp, Killer spared her a bar of soap and piece of clean linen to wash her face and hands. She desperately wanted a bath, but that was at least a day away, so she was grateful enough to have a chance to clean some of the grim off. The chilly water from the stream cleared the lingering fog of her fever for a short time, and left her feeling moderately refreshed for the first time in a week. She even had a chance to comb out some knots in her hair.

She still eagerly looked forward to a warm tub of water.

Once she was finished cleaning up, the pair packed the last of their things, doused the fire, and led their horses to a thin path that cut through the trees to the west of their camp. Nami slowly stumbled along after their longer strides. Kid was nearly two heads taller than her - she barely reached his collar - and Killer wasn't much shorter. In her weary and injured state, there was no chance she would be able to keep up with them. Luckily they stopped at the path, giving her a chance to catch up as Kid handed the reins of his dark brown mare to Killer. He waved her over to him, and the second she was in reach, grabbed her by the waist to easily lift her onto the horse's back.

She swatted at his hands and tried to protest his help, but he ignored her as he settled her on the thick fleece draped over the mare's leather saddle, her legs draped to one side. She knew with her bruised side and injured shoulder, getting on the horse herself wouldn't have been easy, but it would have been better than dealing with the ache that came from the bruising as his hand dug into it. Both too stubborn, they silently glared at each other as she adjusted her cloak so it wrapped tight around her torso. She refused to thank him for manhandling her again, even if it was the quickest way onto the horse.

When he felt she was secure enough, he left her without a word to retake the reins and lead his horse behind Killer's smaller grey.

The first leg of the journey was made mostly in silence as they wound their way through the woods, following the creek they had camped beside. The most either man spoke were warnings of rough footing when the path narrowed near a rocky ledge jutting out over the water. Otherwise, all she had to listen to was the babbling water, the calls of birds hidden high in the trees, and the horses' clomping hooves and muted snorts.

She could have fallen asleep like that if she didn't have to take care to remain in the saddle.

The sun was high in the sky when the trees thinned and the path led them into a wide river valley. The men took a much needed rest after a morning of walking, and settled in the grass at water's edge for a few minutes. While they sat to drink from their leather water skins and share a small, dry loaf of bread, Nami lingered with the horses. Kid had helped her to the ground, again ignoring her protests, but rather than join them, she stood away to stretch her legs and back.

The jostling sway of the horse as they navigated the woods had left her side cramped, but certainly no worse than it would have been if she had walked that distance herself. She was glad that they gave her the mount. She doubted she would have reached that valley alone, at least she wouldn't have made it that far so quickly. And she would have been too fatigued to continue with her fever persisting.

She also stayed with the horses to keep some distance between her and the men. The hours of silence hadn't help lessen her wariness of them. It was a silence carried between strangers, only more recognizable now that the men sat together with low conversation she was excluded from.

She felt more comfortable with the horses, anyway. She ran her hand over the brown mare's thick mane, threading her fingers through the soft hair as it enjoyed the fresh grass. The horse snorted and stepped forward, nudging her hand as it passed over a muscular shoulder. She smiled as she realized the horse was likely just as content with her company as she was with its.

"Oi, woman," Kid called out suddenly. Nami turned back to glower at him, or more specifically at his continued disuse of her name. "I hope you're not thinking of making off with my horse."

Her scowl deepened. "I doubt I could get very far before you caught up to me."

Kid grinned. "Guess you're not as stupid as you appear."

She pursed her lips to restrain the urge to snap at him for the insult. He didn't appear to care if she was offended or annoyed, and she didn't have the energy to bicker, anyway.

She reminded herself that they were helping her. No matter how infuriating one of them had to be, she would remain civil until she was well enough to be on her own again.

She was about to dismiss him altogether when he waved her over, and she shut her eyes for a brief moment to hide the exhausted roll she gave them before going to join the men.

"Killer wants to check your shoulder," Kid explained, gesturing that she sit beside his friend and let him tend to her injury.

Nodding, she unpinned her cloak and eased herself down into the grass. She kept her hair draped over her right shoulder to give Killer access to the wrappings. She didn't try to watch him as he gently unwound the cloth, instead focusing on river in front of them. When the bandaging tugged at her wound, she winced and instinctively drew away, but Killer's firm hand on her shoulder stayed her. With a deep breath, she did her best to hold still for him.

The flesh was tender and she swallowed down her whimpers when he prodded around. She heard him hum, and she wondered if that was good or bad. He didn't deign to share his thoughts.

"Who tattooed you?" Kid asked.

The question was unexpected, though she knew she should get used to him asking them whenever they came to mind. He seemed inquisitive. Or maybe it was only because she was a stranger he took under his care that drove him to ask so many things.

That question… she didn't care to answer it, but his impatient glare forced her to.

"Jarl Arlong," she muttered quietly, her head bowed.

"The usurper?"

She nodded, and listened to his thoughtful hum.

"His sigil, then?"

Again she gave her answer with a silent nod and received another hum in return.

When he didn't ask another question, she dared to look up. Kid sat staring out at the river, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. He was thinking. Would he ask her more, or let the subject drop? She couldn't be sure.

"How are you feeling?" Killer spoke up, breaking into the heavy silence as he rewrapped her shoulder.

"Tired, but better than I was," she answered, glancing back at him with a small smile. "How does the wound look?"

She didn't miss the deepening frown he wore. That meant it wasn't good.

"Our healer might need to bleed it again. It seems to be building new infection," he explained.

That was far from good.

"Then we can't waste any more time here," Kid said. "With the pace we're going, it'll be nightfall by the time we reach Drafn. I'll refill the skins. Killer, get her back on my horse."

Nami still wasn't pleased with being picked up so easily and set on the horse like a child, but she grudgingly relented to being manhandled. It certainly was the easiest way into the saddle.

"Here," Kid grunted, offering up his waterskin once he came back to the horses. She took it with a more gracious smile, and drank a few sips while Kid checked that his packs were still secure behind the saddle. When she handed the skin back, he tied it to his belt and took his horse's reins, tugging the mare along once more.

The group was silent again, and Nami tried to focus on the louder flow of the river they followed, but she quickly grew bored. With her mind fatigued from fever, she worried that she might actually fall asleep that afternoon. That was the last thing she wanted to do atop that horse.

"May I ask _you_ a question?" she called toward Kid. She didn't know if she wanted to converse with him, but it was better than letting the continued silence lull her mind.

He looked back at her with a thoughtful scowl, apparently just as uncertain of talking at length with her. After a moment, he gave a short nod, coupled with a grunt, and turned his head forward.

"Where were you coming from?" she asked. He glanced back again, brows furrowed in confusion, and she sighed. "Where had you two traveled to that took you away from Drafn?"

Kid grunted again and let his gaze leave her. She thought he might not bother answering, much to her irritation, but after a pause, he spoke.

"A small farm to the southeast," he answered.

"What took you there?"

"A woman from one of the farms in my territory divorced her husband at winter's end. We escorted her and her child to her uncle's steading."

Nami hummed. "That's unfortunate," she mused quietly.

"How so?" Kid asked.

"It's always unfortunate to hear a marriage failed," she said.

"Not this one," he remarked, glancing back to see her own confused expression. "The husband had taken to smacking her around after she had their son. Claimed the boy wasn't his."

"That's awful."

Kid snorted wryly. "And he still tried to refuse her the divorce."

"Even after accusing her of infidelity?"

"Mhm," Kid hummed. "He had no proof of her affair, but she had plenty of proof of his abuse. So when they came to me to settle the matter, I granted her the divorce."

"Well, I guess this time it's a good thing they separated," Nami said, Kid humming his agreement.

"And she's young still. She'll find a new husband."

"Hopefully one that's kinder," she huffed.

Kid glanced back, and she caught the corner of his smirk.

"What?" she snapped.

He shook his head and turned forward. "Nothing. I agree. A man should never unleash his temper on his wife."

She cocked her brow. "I'm surprised to hear you say that."

Again he looked back with a deep scowl. "Why do you say that? You think I'm capable of beating my wife?"

"Maybe not. I'm more surprised to hear you pass such harsh judgment on another man's temper when you seem to have one of your own."

His scowl only grew darker, showing a hint of the temper she spoke of.

"I know where to draw a line," he growled after a moment. "And I suppose I can say the same of you considering your anger this morning."

Her mouth fell open in an attempt to retort, but she found she had no argument against him. She _did_ have a short temper.

When her mouth snapped shut and she glowered at him, Kid barked out a short laugh.

"Don't give me that look," he said, chuckling. "I'm not judging you. I like a woman with a little fire in her eyes and fight in her spirit. A woman like you wouldn't stand for a man abusing you."

She looked away from him, toward the river, and frowned in thought. She dealt with Arlong's abuse for eight years before she finally ran away, so she couldn't say if he was right. She wanted to believe she wouldn't, but if circumstances were different…

Kid's next bark of laughter broke her from those dark thoughts, and she looked toward him again. He didn't seem to notice her wandering thoughts. That was for the best.

"I bet any man who raises a hand to you will face a very dark fate," he remarked.

She hoped _that_ was true, if nothing else. At least for one man in particular.

"I hope a man who raises a hand to _any_ woman meets such a fate," she said, her voice colder than she meant it to be.

Kid was silent for a long moment, before he muttered an ominous "He will" and the conversation came to a terse conclusion.

* * *

Nami was right to worry about the silence of their group lulling her to sleep. The valley they traveled through had easier terrain, so the mare didn't jostle her as much, allowing her to relax in the saddle. The sound of the river only further soothed her, and she found her eyes shutting for longer and longer stretches. She fought off sleep as best she could, but caught herself jolting awake from time to time.

She wasn't sure if she was grateful when Kid began to hum sometime later. The low, throaty sound roused her from another bout of unwanted dozing. She shook her head to clear the fog in her mind and looked at the back of the man walking beside his horse, forcing herself to focus on him.

The afternoon had grown cloudy and cool, and she scented rain in the air. She drew her cloak around her to fight off the chilly breeze.

Kid didn't seem bothered by the cold with his heavy fur pelts, but she wondered if maybe the humming was an attempt to distract himself from the changing weather. Or maybe he was as bored as she was.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful to have something capture her attention, even if it was surprisingly soothing to listen to.

And then he began to sing.

He was quiet at first, as though keeping the words to himself. His rough voice came out with a lilt that flowed to the pace of his prior humming. The lilt was the only reason she knew he was singing, even with the guttural rumbling that laced his tone.

It wasn't a song she knew, or even remotely recognized, but she eagerly listened to the tale it told.

 _The King knew strength  
A sword sharpened in waters of red  
The King knew courage  
His skin his armor, heedless of steel's bite_

 _But the King craved to know  
What the All-Father knew  
The frenzy  
The ecstasy  
Eternal_

She shut her eyes and buried her head into the fur around her collar as misting rain began to fall. Kid's story came louder, echoing through the rain, and she realized he _was_ singing to ignore the cold.

 _Nine years he wandered Odin's path  
Nine years he traveled beneath branches of ash  
Through lands of giants  
And caves of dwarves_

 _In the mountain crags  
Skulls he found  
Of the Ravenous  
And the Greedy_

 _Teeth sharp, breath bitter  
They bit at his armor, daggers of bone  
Until he bled, and bled, and bled  
And his courage fled_

Nami glanced up, frowning as the imagery came through his words. Once again, her gaze settled on his back, and the dark brown fur he wore on his shoulders. Fur he had lent her as she slept.

The fur of a wolf.

A shiver ran down her spine.

 _To the forest he ran  
Where feathers he found  
Of Thought  
And of Memory_

 _They fell upon him  
A sea of black  
Until his sword turned to rust  
And his strength turned to dust_

 _And there he drowned  
In steel maggots  
Until he found what he sought_

 _A drum beat in his veins  
A pounding within his heart_

 _Pulsing  
Pulsing  
Pulsing_

 _To the fields he went  
Where spears grew from earth  
His sacrifices to collect_

 _The King found strength  
In his weakness  
The King found courage  
In his fear_

 _With wild eyes, his shield he bit  
His fear ran from him  
Its teeth devouring his prey_

 _With roaring cries, his sword he raised  
His weakness flew from him  
Its feathers drowning his prey_

 _To Odin  
To Odin  
To the All-Father, he sang_

 _Until finally he found  
The great hall gilded  
Of the Master's realm  
Where his ecstasy remained eternal_

Kid's voice trailed into a wordless hum once more, but Nami barely heard it over the cacophony of her nightmare returning. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she saw the wolf, nonetheless. Broken and bloody at the feet of a giant. The rain pouring over them was filled with screams and sobs.

She stared into unseeing, rusty brown eyes until a hand gripped her arm and jerked her awake.

But the eyes were still there.

"Oi," Kid grunted, his rust colored eyes sweeping over her with open concern before the worry was locked away behind a carefully guarded expression.

She blinked, hoping her nightmare would leave her, that his eyes would be different. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs ached, her pants of air not enough to fill them. Cold settled in her chest, she couldn't stop shivering, but her head continued to burn.

"Killer," Kid called to his friend, turning away from her to beckon the other man over. They didn't say anything more as Kid dragged her off the horse and set her on a damp rock. She realized then that it was raining harder. Even beneath the tree they sought shelter from, large drops fell through the leaves to splash on her brow and eyes. Kid's face filled her vision, his fair skin damp with stray red hairs sticking to his temples.

It was all she could focus on as he pressed a warm hand to her forehead.

She finally shut her eyes to blissful darkness at the pressure. She didn't even think about what she was doing as she leaned into the touch. It was warm, yet still it cooled her.

"She's burning up," she heard him mutter. She couldn't stop her whimper when he pulled his hand away. It was replaced a second later, this time with a cool, wet cloth. "And she's too pale."

"This rain isn't helping," said Killer.

She felt something pull at her eyelid until it was forced upon. Through a haze she once more found her vision filled with Kid. His eyes hadn't changed. She didn't know why that made her want to cry.

"We need to get her to the healer," Kid decided, letting her eye fall shut again.

"Leave me," she heard herself whisper. It was idiotic and reckless. She would die if they did, but she was beginning to fear that if they didn't leave her, their fate would be far worse. "I'll be fine."

"Don't be stupid. You'll die," Kid growled. His anger surprised her, but she tried not to think about that.

She felt someone lift her up. She wanted to struggle, they were treating her like a helpless child again, but her limbs refused to move. She was tired.

She heard the jangle of stirrups, a grunt, and then whoever held her was lifting her higher. She felt different arms cradle her. Heard a heartbeat beneath her ear. There was a brush of fur against her cheek, soft and warm. So warm.

"You're a berserker," she whispered. She didn't know why she said that, but it felt important.

His voice rumbled around her. "That usurper of yours one, too?"

She felt movement beneath her. The horse was kicked into a steady canter, the hooves thundering over wet soil at a faster beat. The rain pelted her face and the wind bit her skin, but a hand tightened at her shoulder, pulling her close. The fur was drawn over her, drowning her in darkness.

"No," she answered with a gentle shake of her head. She sighed and sank into the heat. "He's a son of the sea." She heard him grunt, curious or confused. "Of Aegir."

"A giant…" she heard him mutter on the edge of her consciousness.

Whatever else he had to say was lost. All she could hear was his steady heartbeat as she slipped into a beautiful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

When she woke again, the horse had slowed to a trot and she was still surrounded by Kid's fur cloak. She shifted in his arms to peek out, curious of her surroundings. The rain had stopped, the clouds thinned enough to let her see the sun descending on the western horizon. They were still in a river valley, but they were making a gentle, sloping descent toward the east.

Her mouth fell open at the sight in the distance. Faint puffs of smoke rose from the village set at the end of the river, where it spilled into an open bay. Two docks extended out where she could spy longboats, and even a large trading vessel, floating in the fjord. Further into the hills surrounding the village, she could see the clear farm fields with scampering movement of sheep and cattle, mixed into thick woods.

"You're awake," Kid's voice rumbled above her. He sounded surprised, but when she looked up, his expression was stoic. "Thought you'd sleep through tomorrow, you seemed that far gone."

She frowned.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, shifting to let his furs fall away and reveal more of her face.

"Better," she answered quietly. "But you should have left me."

He scowled.

"I'm gonna blame that stubbornness on the fever," he muttered.

She almost laughed. When she was better, he'd see how wrong he was.

"Is that Drafn?" she asked.

"It is," Kid grunted.

He shifted her in his lap when she moved to look forward again. She went rigid at the feeling of his arm at her waist, but fought the urge to push him away. She'd only push herself off the horse in the process. And he had just raced her through a rain storm to reach the village before sundown, shielding her from the cold wind with his cloak.

He could have listened to her and left her behind. She didn't know why he didn't, but she knew she should be grateful and trust him.

A wooden bridge crossed the river to the northern side of the valley, where most of the village was built on the mouth of the bay. The path was well worn leading into the village, wide enough for carts to pass by. Kid's horse trotted over the ruts dug into the dirt from the carts, jostling her at rougher points, but Kid held her tight so she had no fear of falling from her perch.

An archway made of thin, white birch signaled the entrance into the village. For all its similarity to any village she might have found, it felt like a completely foreign place compared to her home.

Drafn was bigger than her village, spread out along the bay with small homes built of wood and thatch, lining a web of dirt paths. Her village was small and quiet, most of the people hiding in their homes when they didn't venture out to tend their gardens or see to their animals for as short a time as they could. They were too afraid of Arlong and his men to wander around freely. Kid's village, on the other hand, was a den of activity, even at the late hour.

They passed men sitting out on a bench, horns of ale in hand, laughing over something Nami hadn't caught. They waved at Kid and Killer as they passed, barely breaking their conversation. Another hut saw a woman outside with her daughter, picking herbs from a garden before rushing back in. They left their door open, as if inviting any in who might want to enjoy the meal Nami could smell wafting through the air. Nami noticed a lot of doors were open.

Further into the village, they passed a fenced in yard lined with swords, axes, and shields. She heard the steady hammering of a smith at work inside the open hut before she was distracted with the tinkling laughter of women coming from another building. She peered around until another open door let her see three older girls inside a home, chatting as they worked at their looms.

She imagined at the height of the day, the village would be bustling with activity. People out trading their wares, children playing down by the water, friends laughing and singing as they performed their daily chores.

Exactly how Tingstad had once been.

Her chest ached with the memories.

"Jarl!" a man called out as they neared an open square in front of a large hall that she knew must be Kid's home. It loomed over the smaller houses of the village, with intricately carved timbers crossed at the front of the hall's roof over the entrance. Smoke rose from the roof opening, telling her a fire was going as she smelled the scent of meat roasting within. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten more than a few nuts during their midday rest.

She spotted someone waving from the porch of the hall, a hint of a smile hidden in a coarse, neatly trimmed black beard to show his happiness at his Jarl's return. "You were supposed to be dropping a wife off, not picking one up for yourself!" the man yelled as soon as they were close enough for him to spot her cradled in Kid's furs.

Kid threw his head back and let out a long laugh that rang over the whole square.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Wire," Kid began as his laughter died, though he still wore a wide grin. "She's nothing but a stray cat that wandered into our camp."

She frowned up at him with that comment. At least he wasn't announcing her as a thief, though she didn't know how much she liked being called a stray cat.

Kid met her gaze, and she didn't miss the glint of teasing amusement in his eyes. His smile only continued to widen when she let out a quiet huff and sent him an annoyed glare.

"Well, wouldn't be the first stray you took in," Wire chuckled as he jumped down to take Kid's horse by the reins and steady it to allow Kid to slid out of the saddle, taking Nami with him. "Though, she's probably the prettiest," he mused, a brow cocked as he regarded her closely.

Once she was near the ground, she squirmed in Kid's hold until he finally set her down. He grinned when she swayed, her legs seeming to forget how to walk after so long on the horse, but he caught her with a hand at her back before she could fall. She glared at him again.

Killer dismounted next to them, and Wire went to grab his reins, too. So close to the three men, Nami suddenly felt as small as a stray cat. Wire even towered over his Jarl by two heads. She reasoned she should be used to it. All of Arlong's men were large, and would easily dwarf her current companions, but she still felt out of place among them.

"Is Heat in his hut?" Kid asked before Wire could lead the horses to the open stables she spied to the side of the Jarl's hall.

"Should be." Wire nodded.

"I'll take the woman," Kid said to Killer. "See what you can find for her supper."

His order was met with a nod, and Killer set off toward the hall while Wire took off with their mounts. Nami was too excited about being fed a proper meal to care when Kid nudged her back, pushing her toward a path leading around his hall, up into the hills behind it.

Kid had to help her when the path grew rough, mixed with weather smoothed stones. Hidden in the trees, she spotted the lone hut on the back edge of the village, smoke billowing out from the low thatch roof. A birch fence surrounded the property with a small garden dug into the front, and another area fenced off with two pigs digging around in the muck of their pen.

While the hut's structure was simple, the wooden archway around the door boasted intricate knot carvings. Stones and bones hung down from a worn fishing net above the door. Once they were close enough, she could make out the blackened etchings of various runes. Most for protection, a few she recognized as calls for peace within that space.

"Heat," Kid called out as he knocked on the doorframe and leaned into the hut. "You in here?"

She heard movement, a thunk of wood, and peered around Kid's large frame to peek inside. The space was bigger than she expected, the ceiling vaulted to allow for someone of Kid's height to stand straight. The floor was hard packed dirt, but wooden platforms covered with fur lined the walls around the fire pit at the center of the main room. Linen and leather curtains toward the back rustled, and an instant later a man popped out to greet them.

"Jarl Kid," he muttered, waving them in.

Nami eyed the new stranger warily. Tall, with defined muscle visible beneath an open black vest. His pale skin was painted with thorny vines running up each arm and winding around his neck. Long blue-grey hair fell in heavy, thick waves down his back, framing a square face. She swallowed thickly at his dark, emotionless eyes that only looked more menacing with black paint swept beneath each.

She wanted to run away, fearing that Kid had brought her there to prepare her for some ritualistic sacrifice, not heal her, but then she took notice of the scaring around Heat's lips. Deep gashes slashed down over the flesh of his mouth – long healed scars of thread woven through his skin. Similar scars ran over his gaunt cheekbones.

He was the healer Kid told of.

"Found this woman half-starved and injured last night," Kid began to explain, once more pushing her forward. The roughness made the last of her nervousness vanish as she bit back a growl and stepped out of his reach. "Shoulder's infected, even after Killer let it out. She said her side's bruised, but we didn't look at it. Seems to be slowing her, though. And she's livelier now, but she lost consciousness a few hours ago."

Heat hummed, turning to her with those emotionless eyes that made her want to squirm. His cool gaze assessed her, sweeping along her form, and then he nodded before disappearing behind the curtains again. He returned a moment later with a white cloth that he held out to her.

"Remove your soiled garments and wind this around yourself so I might assess all your injuries," he said, pointing to the curtains to tell her she could change back there in some semblance of privacy.

She did as he asked, slipping into the back room. There she found a table covered with herbs and bones, a pile of linen sheets, fleece, and fur, and a chest filled to the brim with bowls, spoons, and cups. Knives sat on the table, too, along with a smooth stone and wood bowl containing what looked to be a poultice he was mixing when they arrived.

As she changed out of her filthy dress, she heard Kid and Heat speaking in low voices while someone moved around the main room. She scowled at hearing Kid still out there. She had hoped he would leave and give her some privacy with his healer, especially now that she was only dressed in a thin sheet. She took some extra time to carefully fold her clothes, placing her brooches on top of her cloak to see they weren't lost. By the time she was done, she couldn't hear the men speaking, so she once more hoped Kid had left.

Her hopes were in vain.

He stood by the door, arms crossed and imposing as he blocked out the waning daylight spilling into the dim room. At first his expression was blank, but she didn't miss the rising corner of his lips as his gaze swept over her.

She really didn't want him there.

"You don't have to stay," she bit out, carefully holding the sheet over her chest. His half-smile fell away instantly and he glared. "Thank you for seeing me to your healer. But you have no reason to concern yourself with me any further."

"You're under my protection for the time being. If I want to stay to learn of Heat's findings, _then I'll_ _stay_ ," he growled, then turned to Heat, waving at her. "See? The woman's fever has made her stubborn about getting rid of me, despite my damned kindness."

Nami took a deep breath, and then another.

And then she smiled.

That earned Kid's attention, his brow raising high at her apparently serene expression. She turned to Heat who sat on the wooden platform where he had laid out a bed of furs and covered them with another linen sheet while she changed. A pitcher of water sat beside him, along with a cup.

She pointed to the cup. "May I have some water, please?" she asked sweetly.

He nodded, unsuspecting of her intentions. Heat poured out the water, and moved to hand the cup to her. She ignored the cup and aimed for the pitcher.

Both men were too stunned to know what to expect when she turned toward Kid, pitcher in hand. The next instant, the rest of the water was tossed in Kid's face, effectively forcing him to take a step back and raise his arms as if to defend himself. He only succeeded in drenching the sleeves of his tunic, along with his face and hair.

"Get out," she shouted and then finally gave into the urge to throw something hard at him.

With his arms still raised, he easily deflected the wooden pitcher she sent at his head with her demand. She didn't know what to think when she caught the excitement shining in his eyes and wild grin on his face as he lowered his arms.

"Out!" she demanded again.

His grin was impossibly wide, but he took another step back toward the door. Despite the temper she knew he had, he didn't seem angry in the least, much to her surprise.

"I'll be at my hall," he told Heat. "Someone will be by later with a decent meal for her, and some new clothes."

Heat nodded and with one more amused look her way, Kid walked out, finally leaving her with a moment of peace. She sunk to floor, suddenly weary as her temper fled along with the man who seemed to incite it merely with his existence. In a heartbeat, the healer was beside her, lifting her gently by the arm to get her onto the bed he made.

"I'll have that water now," she said tiredly. Heat eyed her, but seemed to determine she was no threat to him, and handed her the cup he had filled. "Is your Jarl always so obstinate and infuriating?"

She hadn't anticipated Heat's quiet snort of laughter. He didn't say anything, but she took that sound as an affirmative.

She might want to reassess how long she took advantage of Kid's hospitality. Even a fortnight with him might be too long, after all.

* * *

A part of him honestly wished he could have left her to die in the woods, but Kid's instincts told him that would not bode well for him. She was brought to him, and as much as he hated to think the gods might be toying with his fate, he knew he couldn't defy them.

But when she woke in tears that morning, sheer terror in her eyes, he didn't even think about Eir or the reindeer or the Norns with their thread. All he saw was a helpless woman, lost and completely at his mercy, and he knew he wouldn't turn his back on her there.

And when she dared tell him to leave her behind after she nearly fell from his horse, eyes open but unseeing, he was that much more determined to see her well. There was something in her brown eyes that told him her mind was elsewhere, but at the same time she had been looking down at him, her gaze fixed on his, scared and saddened all at once. It had left him unsettled enough to risk riding through a muddy river valley as fast as he dared to go, just to get her to his healer.

He could stare down the face of death in battle without an ounce of fear or hesitation, but one broken woman, a _thief_ , no less, had left his stomach in knots with only a single pitiful look.

Except she wasn't broken. Not yet. She still had some fire in her. He knew what she had been thinking that morning as he purposefully needled her temper when he saw it flare. He couldn't help but rile her up. He had still been annoyed with her attempted theft, as innocent as it had been, and wanted to teach her a lesson.

And that evening, he finally got to see her snap, when he hadn't even been trying to tick her off. He couldn't even be angry when she tossed the water and pitcher at him. It was too hilarious to see such a tiny woman hiss and spit and stand up to him, after she had just spent the last four hours of the afternoon sleeping in his arms without any sign of waking.

Dripping wet, his grin was stuck on his face as he jumped onto the porch of his hall and headed inside. He was greeted with shouts from his men inside, over a dozen warriors who had fought at his side, some since he was a child, others more recently after he became Jarl. They all followed him, without question, without hesitance, no matter where he took them.

They were settled in for supper, taking up stools and benches around the long tables or sitting on the raised, fur and leather covered platforms lining the walls. They all had cups full of ale as a couple of servant women moved around the room to see to everyone. The stone fire pit in the center of the long hall lit the room with a warm, inviting glow, as did the candles set in metal sconces along the support beams.

His journey hadn't been long, but it was good to be home, surrounded by his most loyal friends. The smell of pig roasting made it even better still.

"Did it start raining again?" Killer asked when he made his way to the middle of the head table where his larger chair sat empty, waiting for him. He had made it himself when he became Jarl. Carved the wood with knots and wolves, painted it with flecks of red and gold, decorated it with antlers and bones, and clad the seat and back with soft leather and fur. It was the closest thing to a throne he imagined he would ever get, but it was his.

Kid chuckled at his friend's question as he took off his cloak to shake away the drops of water clinging to the fur. He tossed it on the back of his chair and threw himself into the seat.

A woman came around with a pitcher of ale before he had to ask. He took the pitcher from her the moment his cup was brimming full. That night he didn't want his cup empty, so he'd serve himself.

"Seems that stray cat we picked up isn't so tame," he quipped loud enough for all the men to hear. They all laughed, even Killer snorted despite his rebuking glare.

As the women began to bring out platters of food with his arrival, Kid sat straight and banged his hand on the table. He wanted their attention before they got lost with conversation and their meal.

"You guys heard about our guest, right?" he asked, and waited for the chorus of yeses that followed. News among his men always traveled fast, and he knew Wire and Killer likely began to spread the gossip while he was with the woman. "None of you lays a hand on her if she doesn't wish it. And if you see anyone around causing her trouble, I expect you to take care of it. No harm comes to her as long as she's here."

"How long do you think she'll stay?" one of them asked.

Kid frowned in thought. "However long it takes her to be well again. She can stay as long as she wishes, but I have a feeling she'll try to leave as soon as she's able. If it's true that she's on the run from a Jarl, then she won't risk staying here too long." He drummed his fingers on the table. "And if any strangers come around asking about a woman – She doesn't exist. You play dumb. You say nothing. And you come find me. Understood?"

He sat back with their chorus of agreement, and waved for them to dig into their meal.

He grabbed a thrall woman as she walked by, yanking her toward him by the arm. He ignored her startled look. "See to the woman in Heat's home. Clothes, bath, whatever she needs, you take care of."

"I told them to prepare a plate for her and deliver it," Killer said beside him. He nodded his thanks and released the woman, waving her off to see she followed his orders.

"So what exactly is the story with this woman?" Wire asked as he came around to take a seat with them. "And why _are_ you all wet?"

"She threw a pitcher of water at me when I refused to leave," he answered with a smirk as he took a few slices of pork the women had set on the table. Killer sighed, but didn't lecture him. He didn't think he did anything wrong. He wanted to see that she was settled in with Heat and learn about the severity of her condition. "Apparently she didn't want my company," he snorted.

"And the reason you took her in?" Wire prompted.

Kid shrugged. "Ignoring a sick woman wouldn't have brought me good fortune, especially when she was brought to us by the gods." His friend's brow rose at the answer. He looked to Killer as if doubting what Kid said, but Killer lifted a shoulder to say he wasn't lying. "I don't know why she came to us, but she did." He pursed his lips in thought, and then shrugged again. "Anyway, I think I like her, so the reasons don't matter. She stays."

Killer had been taking a bite of his supper, and Wire a sip of his ale. They both froze and stared at him in open shock.

"What?" he grunted. They continued to stare and he rolled his eyes. It wasn't so strange for him to like someone. He liked plenty of people. They should know that, they were two of them. "She's feisty," he said, as though that were the only reason he needed. It certainly was all he had to explain it, he couldn't really put any other reason to it. She just stood out to him. Just like the few people he called friend.

"You've hardly spoken to her outside of all the questions about where she's from and why she's on the run," said Killer.

"And apparently annoying her enough that she throws things at you," said Wire.

"You're lucky it was only the water," Killer snorted.

"The pitcher, too," Kid pointed out.

"She might have wished it were an axe," chuckled Wire.

Kid could only grin. "See? She's amusing, even if she throws things at me. Means she's not afraid to stand up for herself. She'll need that if she's going to be out on her own. As long as she doesn't try to steal from me again, she'll be fine here."

"Again?" Wire asked in surprise.

"She stole some dried meat from my bag before I found her," Kid explained with a shrug.

"So you brought home a stray _thieving_ cat?"

"She paid a fine for it when she woke up," he said with a dismissive wave. He was mostly over the theft business now.

"After you tried to weasel her out of _all_ her silver," Killer said.

"I was teasing," Kid huffed. "Figured I show her how it feels to have your belongings taken."

"You would have happily taken all of it, teasing or not," Killer argued.

"If she was stupid enough to give it to me without a fight," he agreed.

"So what do you plan to do with her while she's here?" Wire interjected.

Kid thought for a moment. "We'll see what she can do. There's always chores a woman can do around here. I'll find a use for her." He caught Wire frowning at him. "What?"

"As I said earlier, she's the _prettiest_ stray you've taken in," he pointed out while gesturing to the men in the room. A number of them were strays, warriors without a tribe or home to fight for. "This is the first _woman_ you've brought here."

"I've brought women here," he grunted, pointing to a few of the thralls collected from past raids.

"Not _free women_ ," Wire said lowly.

His meaning dawned on Kid, and he rolled his eyes at the hint. "I don't plan to use her like _that_ , Wire. I said she was off limits, didn't I?"

"Figured you were planning to hoard her for yourself."

Kid laughed. "Pretty sure that even if I _wanted_ to, she wouldn't allow it." He held up a drying sleeve and gestured to himself. "She obviously doesn't like me any more than she has to, and I'm not dumb enough to find out just how much that might be. She might _actually_ take an axe to my head."

With a round of laughter, they began to joke about ways to keep especially deadly objects away from their guest whenever Kid came around. That led to stories among all the men about the livelier women they had met in their lives, and how they managed to get away unscathed. He learned that one of his men even bore a scar from a woman who took exception to his advances and tried to cut off a finger with her dagger. Another swore he was cursed by a woman after sleeping with her… and then her sister.

Kid couldn't find it in him to sympathize with the last one. He had brought that onto himself.

Conversation then moved to the woman they left with an uncle. He gathered that the man intended to send word to her brothers and a few cousins, and make their way to her ex-husband's farm to deliver him the ill fate he called upon himself by striking his wife, and daring to dishonor her by likening her to a whore. Kid held no attachment to the farmer, in fact he had a great deal of _dislike_ for the man after seeing his wife's bruised and swollen face. He felt the family was justified enough, so he made sure his men knew to keep their heads down should the kinsmen come later in the summer.

It was a family matter, after all. None of their business how it all played out. As long as they didn't bring their battles into the village, he felt no desire to intercede.

Roughly an hour into the night, Heat finally made his way to the hall to take a seat at the main table.

"How's the woman?" Kid grunted, pouring out a cup of ale for his friend.

Heat frowned and glanced around the room at the other men, much to Kid's confusion. After a moment, he took his cup and leaned in close to talk.

"You said it was Eir who brought her to you?" he asked lowly.

"She was a crone, but we could feel her magic. We guessed it was Eir," Kid explained. Killer and Wire pulled in close, as well, curious of Heat's wary expression. "Why?"

"Did anything else stand out that night?"

Kid and Killer shared a look, and then nodded. "It was too still. Killer even slept through the woman's attempt at thievery."

"And the woman? Did anything strike you as strange?"

Kid frowned in thought. "Everything," he answered honestly.

Heat nodded, but still appeared worried about something.

"What's wrong with her?" Kid asked, letting an impatient growl slip into his voice. "Were we wrong to bring her here?"

"No, you were definitely not wrong in bringing her to me," Heat said with a sigh. He shook his head, as though clearing a number of thoughts, and then took a sip of his ale. "I let out more of the infection in her arm, sewed the new cut closed, and bandaged it with a poultice. The girl you sent is helping her bathe, and then I've mixed an herbal tincture to let her sleep peacefully."

Kid frowned at the last part. She certainly needed some peaceful sleep.

"She was very grateful for the meal, by the way," Heat added, and Kid felt himself relax a bit.

"You need to eat, too," Kid decided and began to raise his arm to call over one of the servants. He stopped when Heat grabbed his arm and tugged it back down. "What? There's something you're not telling me."

"We should talk outside," he said. "I don't think this should be discussed in front of everyone."

That unsettling knot was back. Kid didn't like to keep his men in the dark about anything if he could help it. The three with him now were his closest circle, though, and if one of them felt what he had to say shouldn't be shared with the others, he was inclined to listen.

"Killer, see that we're not followed," he muttered before standing to casually make his way through the boisterous men still feasting in his hall. Heat followed close behind, sparing the barest of nods to any who tried to talk with him on the way out. Kid led them off to the side of his hall, toward the wooded hills at the back. He stopped when he felt they were far enough away from prying ears, and turned to his friend with a scowl. "What is it?"

"I feel strange magic in her," Heat said bluntly.

Kid's brows furrowed. Hearing that a woman held magic wasn't odd. Magic was their realm, their domain, only a few men practiced seidr, and they weren't often respected for it. Heat merely knew the runes for healing and protection, a few old remedies, and even the odd blessing for harvest, but nothing like the magic the women were taught to practice in their weaving.

"What kind of magic?" Kid asked, trying to understand why the subject would leave his friend so uneasy.

"I do not know," Heat admitted. "But it's strong. It's the cause of her infection and fever."

"Why would her own magic be harming her?"

Heat shook his head. "I can't quite say, but I gather it has to do with the mark on her shoulder. It holds magic different from hers. _Binding_ magic."

"The Jarl she's running from tattooed that to her," Kid growled. "What is it binding?"

" _Her_."

Kid stared at the healer, even more confused with that simple answer.

With a sigh, Heat glanced off into the woods, in the direction of his hut and the woman recovering there.

"I cannot be certain at this point, it's only a theory, one I doubt she would be willing to confirm. She is from Svealand, correct?" Kid nodded. "Years ago, I heard a tale from the svear about an extinct clan. It was a matriarchal clan led by a high priestess whose lineage was blessed with the gift of foresight."

"A prophetess?" Kid asked, trying to hide his surprise at where he guessed this story was going. A matriarchal clan was unheard of, especially one with such magic.

Heat nodded. "The story claims that the line of seers was highly sought after for their power, so a curse was placed on them to see that any unworthy who dared claim a wife or daughter in the lineage would be driven mad with magic, and then die dishonorably, sent to Hel, never to step foot in the great hall."

"Who placed the curse on them?"

"The highest practitioner of seidr, of course. _Freyja_."

"Her bracelet… And the amber…" Kid mused, the pieces falling into place.

"The gold bracelet is meant to call the Valkyries to her, to aid her in times of strife, and provide her with strength and protection when she needs it most. The leather and amber bracelet is meant to channel her magic and guide her, as far as I can tell. There were no runes that I could see carved into it, but I dared not make her remove it to see. Those must stay on her at all times."

Kid was still confused, even if some things in the story made sense. "You believe her to be part of this clan? A prophetess?"

Heat finally looked at him. "I admit, I'm at a loss on what to believe. From what the svear say, the last remnants of the clan died nearly twenty years ago. One thing does stand out; even more than the symbols of Freyja she bears." He paused, and Kid cocked his head to the side, silently encouraging his friend to explain. "Her name…" he began uneasily. "Nami. It is an eastern name, not of these lands. But it's meaning is significant."

"What does it mean?"

"Wave."

Kid's eyes widened in surprise. To name a daughter for the sea….

"The clan was said to descend from the billows… From Rán's daughters. Every daughter was named for the waves, just as her nine daughters were."

It fit, but at the same time none of it made sense. For this clan to be descended from a giantess, to bear strong seidr such that belonged to the Vanir and Norns, and then cursed by a Vanir goddess. It was a tangled web, and that meant there was deception in the tale. Unsurprising where magic is concerned, but what was true and what was false, he couldn't even begin to guess.

But it certainly answered one question he had that the woman hadn't been happy to answer. He knew she had been lying when he asked the reason for her Jarl holding her hostage. She knew very well why he claimed her as he did.

"She said her Jarl was a son of Aegir," Kid said, settling a hard gaze on Heat who's mouth fell open in shock. "The _father_ of those billows. That mark is Arlong's sigil, claiming her as his captive and ward."

Heat turned thoughtful, scowling at the information. "That is strange," he mused. "That mark is what her magic is fighting to destroy, even if it takes her with it. If it is true that she is from a clan born from the sea, and her Jarl is the same, then by reason, he should be worthy to claim her in whatever fashion he wishes. The mark should not harm her."

"But it is," Kid growled. "Can you remove it?"

"It's in the process of being removed by more natural means," Heat said. "I fear cutting it from her myself. I might invoke a more unwanted curse on her, or on myself. The thread binding her magic is broken and unraveling now, and I suspect Rán, herself, had some hand in that. She said the cut came sometime after her faerring capsized. She even said she was dragged to the end of her limits beneath the water, claimed it was Rán's net that had her. She remembers being cast into a rock, and that was how she got cut."

"None of this makes sense," Kid growled. "Why would Rán take issue with Aegir's men marking her?"

Heat shrugged, at a loss on how to answer that. "Perhaps because it was binding her gifts and stifling her freedom. I cannot say. But with the mark in tatters, I feel she will begin to find her magic awakening as it should have years ago."

Kid scowled. He had a feeling it had already begun.

"A seer, you said?" The healer nodded grimly. "She woke this morning in tears, terrified from what I guessed was a fever dream," he explained. "And then this afternoon, she nearly fell from my horse. I thought she had fallen asleep, but her eyes were open, and her mind gone."

"Did she tell you what she saw?"

"Of course not," Kid snorted. "She only told me of Arlong's connection to Aegir because she was delirious with fever." His brows furrowed as he remembered that conversation. "It was after she made a remark about me being a berserker. It seemed important to her. I thought her Jarl might be one, too. She had taken issue with the means I came about my Jarldom because her Jarl had forcefully usurped the previous one. I thought it was another reason for her to mistrust me."

Kid's stomach was in knots as he began to pace, trying to put all the pieces together in a way that made sense. He was missing something, though. There had to be more to the tale.

Heat watched him for a moment before speaking again.

"I fear she's had a vision of you," he said bluntly, and Kid froze. "She told you to leave her. She might fear that she'll bring you misfortune."

Kid scoffed at that. "She was just being a stubborn and delirious fool." He began to pace again. "And if she did see something in that nightmare, then there's no changing that fate. It is what it is. Even if I had left her, nothing would change."

"You're not afraid that she might be an ill omen?"

Kid stopped and stared off into the trees, toward Heat's hut, thinking. His stomach tightened with anxiety he hadn't felt in years, and then he let out a long breath and it was gone.

"No," he decided. "The gods brought her to us for a reason. Whatever it is, I won't fear the fate they've woven for me."

He nodded to himself, set in his decision.

"Nami stays," he said firmly. "And we won't allow anyone to take her."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Alright, lessons on bits of lure I used here. I'll start with that poem thing (I actually headcanon Kid as being a very good lyricist. Don't know if my poem conveyed that, but whatever)._

 _The poem is inspired by the Berserkers from Old Norse lore. They were warriors and considered to be tied to the god, Odin. They were said to go into battle without armor, but were still impervious to blades and fire. The name of the warriors comes from the pelts they wore (some bear, others wolf - there's a separate name for the ones who wore wolf pelts, but most tend to lump them in with all berserkers for simplicity's sake, from what I've seen. Also the other name is kind of a bitch to write out since it's Old Norse and the lettering is very different, and has no English equivalent that I've found)._

 _In the poem I make mention of two significant aspects of Odin - 'Ravenous' and 'Greedy' refer to his two wolves, 'Geri' and 'Freki', and 'Thought' and 'Memory' refer to his two ravens, 'Huginn' and 'Muginn'. Also, the 'great hall gilded' is a reference to Valhalla, of course. And I've seen some sites in my research associate Odin with 'ecstasy' among the many other things he's associated with (death, healing, battle, sorcery, frenzy, knowledge, royalty, poetry, the runes, and the gallows), I imagine 'ecstasy' is meant to be synonymous with 'frenzy', which is the state of mind bersekers are associated with, but I like the word, so I used it in the poem._

 _Anyway, the rest of the imagery that ties with the berserkers comes from the lore about what they did in battle - they bit their shields and let out war cries, got frothing mad, and all that. Also, to explain the bit about the field growing with spears - that's in reference to the practice of Norse warriors throwing a spear behind their enemies before battle, signaling that those people are going to be sacrificed to Odin._

 _Next, I'll kind of explain Aegir. He's a giant, as Kid said, associated with the sea. Now, most of the Aesir and Vanir gods did not get along with the giants, but Aegir was an exception. He threw all kinds of parties for them, and they all basically crashed his hall regularly because he had the best ale. While Aegir seems conveyed in a pretty good light in the lore I've found, Arlong obviously isn't, but connecting Arlong to Aegir was too perfect a fit overall to resist._

 _And I mentioned Ran in a previous chapter, but I'll elaborate here. She's a giantess/goddess and Aegir's wife. As stated in the fic, they had nine daughters, each named after the various types of waves. Ran, unlike her husband, is not a very nice person. Her name is thought to translate to 'Robber', and she's known to drag men into the sea with her net, and she's considered to have command of storms. There's some obvious paralleling between Nami and Ran/the nine daughters, but I'm going to be leaving everyone confused about her true nature in this fic for a reason, because there's paralleling between her and Freyja, too. I won't elaborate on that yet, though I've laid a good amount of it out already in the fic. My intent is to keep you guys guessing until the very end when the true story of Nami's heritage is told._

 _Also, in Old Norse society (according to the majority of what I've read), women were considered to be close to magic and the gods. Their weaving was connected to 'spellwork' because of the nature of seidr, and especially the Norns. It was one of the various reasons you don't cross a Norse woman, that, and her male kin might beat your ass, unless she's nice, then she just fines you... and maybe tries to curse you. But really, you don't disrespect a woman, even if they don't have the 'power' that men have in a patriarchal society, they're still valuable... and scary._

 _As I've said, I have had a lot of fun researching this, even if it's a lot of information to take in._

 _Oh, and I usually headcanon Wire as the 'healer' of the group, but for this fic, Heat's aesthetic fit better for the role, so I switched it. Can't wait to find out who is the Kid Pirates' doctor._

 _Also, I'm pretty sure Kid's a lot like Luffy when it comes to picking friends. It's all instinct. Something just tells him he likes that person, and once he's decided he likes that person, they're his person and that's that. Really all the captains probably pick their friends like that (on some level). Basically "I have no idea who you are, and you're kind of weird, but I like you, you're mine now."_

 _And thanks guys for the reviews. I'm glad to see so many enjoying this fic. At least I know I'm enjoying it._


	5. Chapter 5

_Before we get into this chapter - yes, KidNami is unequivocally my 'Beauty and the Beast' ship, and one part of this chapter should make that painfully obvious._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Remembrance_

For three days, Nami slept in Heat's hut. At least she slept to the best of her abilities. Nightmares still plagued her, and every time she woke, the healer was beside her with water and a curious frown. He never asked her about the nightmares, but she could tell he wanted to as he crouched there on the dirt floor, waiting for her to regain all her senses.

She wanted to tell him. He might be able to decipher their meaning, or, what she really hoped, reassure her that they were nothing more than feverish delusions within her mind. His obvious interest, silent as it was, told her the chances of it being the latter were low. So, she kept them to herself.

She already had an idea what they meant.

By the third night, Heat had made a sleep thorn by carving the ancient needle shaped runes into a piece of oak. He said her body needed rest that her magic would not allow, and said the spell would let her sleep, uninterrupted, until he burned the rune in the fire. She was uncertain of using the spellwork, no matter how much she desired a good night's rest. If it was carved wrong, or with ill intentions, she might never wake up. And if it kept her asleep, but did not cure her dreams, she might be stuck in that nightmare, unable to wake at all.

He had read her doubts and swore no harm would come to her, that he would stand guard in her sleep to watch for any signs of her dreams bringing her harm. In the end, she let herself trust him. He had done nothing to hurt her, and her shoulder was improving with the treatment he provided. It was only sleep that alluded her and made her fever persist. She needed to get well, or she might never be able to leave, and that was not in anyone's best interests.

Heat placed the oak beneath her pillow, and then burned a small bundle of dried herbs over her bed, fanning the smoke over the sheets and furs. The smell was soothing on its own, sweet and fragrant, and she felt her body begin to relax before she even slipped beneath her wool blankets.

While she got comfortable, the healer arranged himself against the wall at her side, a flute of bone in hand. She fell asleep to the sounds of a slow, whistling tune dancing in the air, carrying her mind far from any battlefields they had been plagued with before.

She surely cried in her sleep when she began to dream of the farmhouse, as it had once been. Before Arlong. Before her life was torn to shreds. Before she knew _exactly_ what her mother had been hiding her from.

It was a warm, sunny day. Early summer, if she remembered right. She could hear laughter, children running through the thin trees surrounding the small property. A breeze picked up, and Nami could actually smell the fowl her mother had been roasting for supper. They had finished their chores early, and were chasing each other around the beach and forest. Not a care in the world.

" _Nami! Nojiko!,"_ she heard ring through the air. She followed, beckoned just as the young girls were. She couldn't have been older than nine that year. The summer before _he_ came.

Her throat tightened when she saw her in the door. The strip of dark magenta hair, tied in a tail atop her shaved head, fluttered in the gentle wind. The light blue of her dress was faded and frayed at the ends. All the clothes she made went to the girls, she rarely spared the materials for herself. Her brooches were old and weathered, with a thin string of glass beads in white and green hanging between them. The strings had broken a number of times over the years, beads lost and never replace. Silver hung from each brooch, too. A few pieces were etched with boars, while others had black painted ravens. Reminders of old oaths she never gave up. Small scissors and a sewing kit she never went without were hidden within a pouch. Her brown leather belt was frayed and splitting, but still held the knife with its faded wooden grip she never took off her.

And there was a smudge of dirt on her left cheek.

She was as beautiful as ever.

" _Wash up, girls. Supper's about ready,"_ Bellemere said, waving the girls into the small house.

Nami watched the girls go to the bowl of water and soap set on the floor by the fire. The home was just as she remembered it. Then again, she and Nojiko hadn't changed much of anything since Bellemere died.

They all shared a bed, nothing more than a cushion of straw and fur with wool blankets to fight off the cold. The raised wooden platform they slept on was to one side of the room, and Nami remembered one winter when they found a hole in the siding that let the freezing air in for nearly two weeks. They had to wait until a warm enough day to patch it. In the meantime, they packed extra blankets and clothes in the space to block out the cold. It barely held through a rough winter storm, but as long they were snuggled together in that shared bed, beneath piles of fur and wool blankets, they were plenty warm.

A small table sat in the middle of the room, right beside the fire. Most days it was covered in cloth as Bellemere busied herself with mending garments and making new pieces for the girls. They only ever cleared enough space off to eat their meals. They didn't have a loom, but Genzo allowed them to use the one he had at the hall. He offered to make one for them, but the space wasn't quite big enough for one, so they were satisfied with his. It gave them an excuse to visit his longhouse every day.

That day, or in her dream, the only thing that was different from most days was the open chest beside the table. It was the chest Bellemere kept everything she managed to salvage after finding the girls and leaving the village Nami had been born in.

" _What's all this, Bellemere?"_ Nojiko asked, peeking into the chest that their mother rarely ever opened.

" _Some old things from Västerås,"_ she explained.

" _Where's that?"_ Nami had asked, leaning into the chest to dig through the things inside.

" _It's where you were born,"_ Bellemere had explained. _"A place to the north and east, not far from Agnafit."_

Nami hadn't known exactly where that was at that age. It hadn't been important. It still wasn't. She could never go back. There was nothing left to go back to.

" _Oh! This is pretty!"_ Her younger self exclaimed, tugging a soft fur from the bottom of the chest.

" _Ah! Put that back!"_ Bellemere yelled, whisking over to smack her hand with a wooden spoon. Nami shrieked and dropped the fur, pulling back her hands to nurse the red spot blooming on her skin.

" _I just wanted to see it. We never have any furs like that."_ The younger Nami sulked, her lower lip puffed out.

Bellemere frowned down at her, silently weighing what to do. In the end she sighed and crouched down beside the chest, beckoning the girls closer.

" _I was going to wait until you were older, Nami,"_ she began to explained. The girls eagerly watched her remove the armor and sword set on top of the fur, placing it aside, and then carefully took the fur out of the chest. _"This is everything I was able to gather from your home. They were your mother's."_

Nami's head had cocked to the side as she leaned in close. Bellemere unfolded the fur to reveal a set of gold brooches, etched with large cats, strings of amber and gold that Nami's fingers itched to touch, and a leather bracelet woven with more amber beads.

Nami slumped down onto the dirt floor, pressed to Bellemere's side as she studied the pieces. She reached out to gently trace over the brooches, thoughtful and curious about where she came from for the first time in her life.

" _Was my mother rich?"_ she had asked, glancing up at the only woman she had ever seen as a mother, not the faceless ghost the trinkets had once belonged to.

Bellemere laughed quietly. _"Something like that. She was a very important person once."_ She ran her hand through Nami's hair. _"I was never lucky enough to know her myself, but everyone who spoke of her said she shone brighter than the most precious jewels. I believe you got that trait from her."_

" _I did?"_

Bellemere nodded. _"Even as a baby, your smile was something to treasure."_

Nami snickered at the compliment. Even more so when Nojiko leaned over their mother, smiling wide as she voiced her agreement.

" _So if these were my mother's, why are you hiding them in this chest? They must be worth a lot. We could have gotten a bigger farm with it."_ Nami gasped as a thought came to her. _"You could have traded some of it for that sea chart Genzo brought back from Frankia."_

Bellemere smacked her on the back of the head.

" _These are not trinkets to trade away, Nami. They're all you have left of your mother, and I wanted to see you had them when you got older. Anyway, don't you like our house? I think it's nice."_

" _It's a dump,_ " Nami said flatly, earning another hit to the head.

Watching the scene, Nami wanted to giggle at the memory. She brought Bellemere so much strife, but her mother never once regretted it.

" _Nami_ ," Bellemere sighed, _"these things are important. They're gifts from the gods, only to be worn by the daughters it was made for. We cannot give them away. I was going to wait until you were older to share this tale, but…"_ She trailed off with a sigh, and drew Nami close.

Bellemere spent the rest of the night telling a story too unbelievable, too tangled in deceit for Nami to take seriously. She tried to. A part of her certainly had wondered as she sat with the soft fur pelt of a long sacrificed lynx, tracing her fingers over the black spots scattered over the tawny shades.

" _Someday you will understand,"_ Bellemere said at a hush, patting both girls on the head. That much was true. She was finally beginning to understand the deceit, and see the truth for what it was. Though she wished she could deny it for a while longer. _"People will search for you. They'll try to take you for themselves. But no matter what, you must always be strong, and never lose hope. The Norns brought you both to me for a reason. I believe, no matter the hardships that may come, your future will be a happy one."_

Her words hadn't felt foreboding then, but in that reminiscent dream, after facing such dark depths in life with no ray of hope to follow, the memory clawed at her gut with anxiety. If she was meant to have a happy life, then it was surely a long way off.

Bellemere's sudden laughter broke into her thoughts, and Nami watched as her mother slipped two gold bangles that had been hidden inside the folded leather armor. Her mother released the girls and turned on the floor to face them, holding a bracelet in each hand.

" _And these are mine. The nicest things I've ever owned._ " She tapped one to Nojiko's forehead, the other to Nami's. Both girls closed their eyes with quiet laughs. _"If in the future, I'm not here anymore, I want you both to have one of these. They'll protect you when I can't."_

" _What do they mean?"_ asked Nojiko this time. She had spied the runes and was tilting her head in a vain attempt to decipher their meaning.

" _Protection and strength, are what they call to whoever possess these. The Valkyries will guide your sword, and hide you from death. Only the best shieldmaidens are allowed to wear these, but I trust you both will be worthy of them."_

Without thinking of it, Nami's hand went to rest on her wrist. Even in a dream she could feel the comforting weight of her mother's bracelet. She hoped what Bellemere said was true. Certainly for Nojiko, at the very least. Nami was safe enough, but Nojiko was still trapped within the giant's lair.

" _I'll protect Nami,"_ she heard Nojiko say, a wide smile lighting up her face. _"No matter what. She'll always be safe."_

" _You always have,"_ Bellemere said, ruffling the little girl's light blue hair until it began to fall loose from the red woven band she wore in it.

" _You won't be protecting her from me,"_ a man called from the door, breaking into the moment. They all jumped and turned to the guest. Nami's throat tightened at the sight of Jarl Genzo standing tall in the door. His face was unmarked beneath his trimmed beard, and his eyes shone with more life than she had seen in years. Even if they were unmistakably angry.

" _What did you take this time?"_ Bellemere snapped at Nami.

" _Nothing!"_ the little girl said. A lie, of course.

" _A gold necklace is certainly not nothing,"_ Genzo growled, and the younger Nami stifled a shriek. _"Bellemere, is this the thanks I receive for allowing you to manage my farm?"_

Her mother, unflinching in the face of their Jarl's bad mood, quickly stood and sauntered toward him. The girls snickered at the exaggerated sway of her hips that easily drew the man's attention down. Bellemere waved them toward a small hatch they had built into the back wall, an escape route in a dangerous situation. They never thought they would need it for anything other than running from Genzo.

" _Now Jarl, you know I'm very thankful for everything you've done,"_ Bellemere cooed, tracing a finger over Genzo's jaw as she leaned into him. _"I'd be more than happy to let you take their fine… From my body,"_ she said at a whisper, carefully enunciating each word with her lips to his ear.

While their mother distracted him with her seduction, the girls slipped out, still stifling their laughter at the Jarl's vibrant blush. He never stood a chance against Bellemere when she flirted.

Nami sank into the blissful reverie of days long past, of a simpler time when the only thing she feared was being caught by Genzo and made to scrub the floors. She sat on their old bed, watching the memories flash before her. The smiles and laughter. The playful shrieks. The quiet winter nights spent snuggled in the furs by the fire, listening to Bellemere's stories of adventure and the gods.

She wished she could go back.

Her eyes stung. She could never go back. But maybe she could stay there. Nothing hurt. Nothing scared her. There were no giants or wolves. No blood staining her memories and dreams. It was peaceful and beautiful. She never wanted to leave.

She startled at a dark growl echoing in the home as her family faded away. The fire was gone, nothing but a hollow pit hidden among overgrown weeds that had broken into the living space. The roof was torn and falling at one side. The walls bland and broken. The farm was as she last saw it. Hollow. Dead.

The one thing that didn't belong in that home was the large wolf sitting on the floor in front of her. She stared wide-eyed, shrinking back into the wall. He wasn't the same as he was in the nightmares. There was no blood matting his fur, his body was whole and strong, so large he seemed to fill the room. And those rusty eyes were bright with life, and narrowed dangerously on her.

His lip curled with a snarl, another low growl rumbling from his throat. Nami tried not to whimper, but fear welled in her chest and escaped with a quiver of her lip. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to go back to that world.

He growled again and took a step toward her, bulky muscle shifted with the prowling hunch of his shoulders. She drew her cloak around her, wishing it were a shield.

He took another step, stalking closer, and her hand grappled around the bed for any sort of weapon. Her fingers curled around the smooth hilt of ivory she knew well, traced over the faint knots her mother had carved into it long ago. She drew it tight to her palm when the wolf came closer still.

" _Wake up,"_ said a voice, lacing the wolf's frothing snarl.

She didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay there. She wanted to see her mother again. Her sister. Her Jarl. Just as they were. Not as they are.

" _Wake up!"_ he bellowed, lunging toward her with sharp teeth bared.

Instinct drove her to lash out, striking at the wolf with her dagger. The second her blade slashed through his fur, the world shattered around her.

She was no longer in the farmhouse. She sat in a bed of furs, panting and gasping for air as the healer's hut filled her senses.

Her arm was still raised, her wrist caught in a strong grip. She blinked, letting the last of her dream wash away as she focused on the large figure crouched on the floor beside the wooden platform.

Kid was on his haunches, left hand back, bracing himself in the dirt while his right held tight to her wrist. His arm was blocking his face, only his fiery gaze visible as he quietly growled.

"What did I tell you about keeping weapons away from her, Heat?" he snarled at the healer, though his eyes still held hers.

Just over his imposing form, she spied Heat knelt at the fire, pushing at the wood intently. She caught a brief flash of the oak sleep thorn before it was consumed by the flames.

"What are you talking about? Her weapons are…" Heat trailed off to glance around. Her cloak sat folded near the back room, just where the thrall had left it after washing it her first day there. Her purse and axe sat there, too. All of her belongings were on the other side of the room. Her gaze followed his to the dagger in her hand. The dagger she knew had been nowhere near her as she slept.

She dropped it with a gasp, her surprised gaze meeting Kid's more thoughtful one as the weapon clattered off the platform and into the dirt. His grip relaxed and with one last wary look, he released her entirely.

"I can't believe you gave her a sleep thorn," Kid began to rant, his attention back on the healer. "What if she didn't wake?"

Heat glowered at him. "I told you to wait for the thorn to burn completely. She would have woken on her own once it was destroyed."

Kid hissed in annoyance, but refrained from arguing the subject further. Instead he turned his attention to the sleeve of his tunic. Nami was still trying to put together what had happened as she watched him finger the long slash in the fabric. That surprised her. He must have deflected the blow while protecting his face.

"How'd she even get her dagger?" he muttered to himself while pushing the sleeve away.

She gasped when she saw the blood running over his forearm. She hadn't just cut the fabric. She had cut him.

"You're bleeding," she said, grabbing his arm to pull it closer and inspect the wound.

"Just a scratch," he grunted, shrugging indifferently.

It was far from a scratch. The cut ran long and deep, from his elbow down to the inside of the forearm. Blood welled and spilled from the gash, and the flesh easily opened wider with just a bit of movement. She couldn't believe she had done that to him.

"Don't you dare come near me with that needle, you bastard," Kid shouted suddenly, breaking her from her examination. She looked up from his arm to see Heat standing above them, he, and the thread in his hand, the recipient of a very menacing glare.

Nami glowered at him. "This is deep, Kid. He needs to close it."

"It's fine," he growled at her, tugging his arm from her grasp to press his hand over the cut. "Just wrap it."

She and Heat both sent him withering stares, though Nami had to admit, the obvious disdain in the look Kid wore when he looked at the needle and thread was quite amusing. But the cut needed to be cleaned and bandaged properly, no matter what he thought.

"I'll take care of it," Nami decided with a sigh, earning Kid's angry snarl even as he drew his arm to his chest in an attempt to protect it. She rolled her eyes. "I won't sew it. But I'm the one who cut you, at least let me clean and wrap it for you." He eyed her warily. "It's the least I can do," she said softly, doing her best to sound kind. She even graced him with a small smile.

After a tense moment of thought, Kid relaxed with a nod.

Nami gestured for Kid to sit at her left and moved to give him room, adjusting the loose linen tunic Heat had lent her to sleep in so she kept some decency in front of the Jarl. It fell off one shoulder, giving the healer better access to her cut for treatment, so she carefully tugged it to sit higher as best she could.

Her own underdress had been given to the village women to use as scrap cloth. It was too damaged to be mended and cleaned easily, and she figured it would be of more use in patching other garments. Her apron dress was cleaned with her cloak, but Nami still needed to mend a small tear she had noticed in the seam. She wasn't going to bother the other women with that chore, though.

Once they were settled, Nami kneeling at Kid's side, Heat brought over a basin of heated water and a clean linen wrapping.

"Do you have more of the poultice you used for my wound?" she asked while soaking a piece of cloth in the water.

Heat nodded and vanished into the back room to retrieve the herbal paste.

"That stuff burns," Kid grunted in complaint.

Nami ignored him and pressed the cloth to his cut. He hissed and tried to pull away, but Nami gripped him by the elbow to keep him there. When he tried to pull away again, she yanked him back and glared.

"Stop acting like a child," she reprimanded. He growled, but forced himself to stay still with the next sweep of her cloth. The growl returned when Heat came to her other side with a bowl of green paste and square cut cloths. "For someone who runs into battle without a care, you really are a baby with this."

"It doesn't hurt when I get injured," he huffed.

"That makes absolutely no sense," she said, laughing quietly.

"Well it doesn't. Only hurts when you mess with it," he said, hissing again when she began to spread the poultice over the gash. He tried to pull back again. "Like now. Stop that. I don't need that crap," he growled.

"Yes you do," she snapped. "Or do you want to be stuck in bed with a fever like I've been?"

Kid huffed in defeat and stilled, allowing her to work in silence once more.

By the time she was winding cloth around his arm, Kid had relaxed completely. She could feel his gaze on her, but ignored it, focusing on her task.

"You look better," he mused, and then she felt his free hand press to her forehead. She pulled back to glare, and was met with his own annoyed look. "You're not as warm."

"Peaceful sleep helps a fever," she said. "How long did I sleep, anyway?" she asked Heat, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"A whole night and half a day," Heat answered. "Were your dreams better?"

Her eyes widened briefly before she turned back to the last of Kid's wrapping. She only spared him a nod.

She didn't want to talk about her dreams.

"What did you see?" Kid asked, ignoring her discomfort just as he had since she met him.

She glowered at the prying question, but he merely stared back with an expectant look. She especially didn't like how he worded the question. He could have asked what she had dreamt, but he asked her what she had _seen_ , and the meaning behind that word was not the same as a dream.

Sighing, she tied off his bandage. "Nothing," she lied and pushed herself up. "I should probably dress and go outside for some fresh air. I think I've been stuck in here long enough."

She ignored their identical frowns as she moved toward her clothes. She fingered the torn seam of her apron dress. She would fix that later. For now, she just needed some time alone.

She disappeared behind the curtain to escape their gazes, and quickly changed out of the borrowed tunic. One of the women had lent her a new underdress to replace the torn one. It was a little big, but with her belt in place, she could hardly tell save for the wider oval of the neckline that slipped at her shoulder. She would have to see about making a new dress for herself. Or maybe barter for one in the village.

Back out in the main room, she was once more met by Kid's heavy gaze. Heat had disappeared, much to her annoyance. She would rather he was still there to keep his Jarl leashed, though she doubted he would have any luck in that task, either.

"What did you see?" he asked again, an impatient growl in his tone.

"Nothing," she answered firmly, tossing her cloak around her shoulders and pinning it in place.

"You're lying," he accused. "You saw something to make you lash out with that knife. A knife that wasn't even in your reach a minute before." He stood as she moved toward the door, still intent on ignoring his curiosity. He followed her outside, unrelenting in his quest for a straight answer. She had hoped to find the healer out tending to his pigs or herbs, maybe chopping wood. Anything, as long as he was there to make Kid leave her alone, but unfortunately she was still at the Jarl's mercy. "Heat told me about your magic. That the tattoo's binding you," he continued to say as he followed her down a worn path leading further into the woods, away from the village.

She picked up her pace in the hope he would get the hint and back off. It was too beautiful a day to deal with an interrogation.

"Woman," he growled, only further strengthening her resolve to keep her mouth shut. She could hear him stomping after her. "Tell me what you saw."

"I saw an annoying pest rudely waking me up," she snapped, shooting him a hard look over her shoulder that dared him to call out her lie. "Now go away, I want to be alone."

"I'll leave when you tell me what you saw," he said. She absolutely didn't believe him.

"I just did," she pointed out.

"You're lying," he said lowly before grabbing her arm. He tugged her to a halt and spun her to face him. "Tell me what you've been seeing, woman."

Her eyes narrowed up at him. Stubborn bastard.

"A wolf," she finally answered. She wouldn't say any more than that. He needn't know more.

His grip loosened with his surprise and she took the opportunity to escape him. Just as she expected, he followed after her once he brushed away his stupor.

"What happened to the wolf?"

"I cut him, obviously," she said, half laughing.

"So I'm the wolf," he determined, and she froze in the path, mouth gaping. She hadn't meant to imply that.

Shaking her head, she quickly walked on. "No, you're not," she bit out quietly.

"You cut the wolf for trying to wake you," Kid summarized. "And here I am, cut after trying to wake you."

She ground her teeth. Why did he have to be so observant? And stubborn?

"Will you just go away!" she yelled, but Kid only walked faster until he was in front of her, turning to walk backwards and hold her gaze with a stern frown. "You're infuriating!" she hollered in the face of his persistence.

"It's true, then. You're a seer," he stated, coming to a stop and forcing her to do the same before she crashed into him. "What else have you been dreaming about? Your nightmares before? What did you see?"

"I was fevered! Those were nothing but fever dreams!" she tried to argue, even if she knew better. "And what do you mean by 'it's true'!?"

"I told you that Heat talked about your magic," he explained. "He said you might be a seer. One from a clan born of the billows."

She rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't believe every tall tale you hear, Kid. Especially that one. I've heard it before, and that clan is dead. I'm not one of them."

She shoved by him, intent on bringing the discussion to a close. He only continued to follow her.

"Then why are you named as they are?" he asked.

"Because my mother liked the name," she lied. "It's just a name. Should I think that you're a baby goat because you share its name?"

She gloated at his frustrated growl.

" _Nami_ ," he snapped. "Why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Because there is no _truth_ you need to know. All you need to know is that I'm a stray you've taken in who will be out of your life in a few weeks. In fact, you already know far more than you need to."

"You might just be a stray, but you're wrong if you think you're leaving any time soon," he said, and she froze mid-step and spun to gape at him.

"What did you just say?"

"You're staying here," he answered, arms crossed and head high, trying to look imposing and authoritative. He was only making himself look like a good target for another water pitcher. If only she had thought to bring one.

"You have no right to decide that," she argued.

"Until you satisfy your debt to me, then I think I do." His brow arched, daring her to refute that argument. They both knew that she couldn't. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and Kid's posture relaxed with her submission. "You're safe here, you know." She looked up at him with a sullen frown. "I've passed word around the village and farms that any outsiders who come searching for a woman are to be sent to me. No one is to say anything of your existence here. As far as your usurper will be concerned, you're no more than a ghost."

"Are you offering me protection?" she asked with quiet disbelief.

"If you'll take it," he said, nodding.

"Why? Why would you do that for me? I'm little better than a stranger. You should have left me behind in the woods, and as grateful as I am that you didn't, you've already done more than enough for me. You have no obligation to protect me," she argued.

"Don't I?" he asked, head cocked curiously. "The gods brought you to me. I think that gives me an obligation to you, whether either of us like it or not."

"You can defy them," she argued. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"Tell me what you are and where you come from, and we'll see if I change my mind."

"You're not going to give up until I do, right?" She sighed and walked a few paces from the path were a large rock sat buried in the sloping hill. The ground around it was soft from the rains that had been passing through the area, and hidden within the trees, the sun that day hadn't reached the soil to dry it.

"If you stay, then I won't." He followed her into the trees, and when she lowered herself onto the rock, he crouched in front of her. He held her with a steady gaze.

She sighed again. "I was wrong," she whispered. His brow rose, and her lips quirked up with a tired smile. "You're not just infuriating, you're also insufferable."

Kid chuckled. "If you're sticking around, might want to get used to that." He leaned forward, grinning at her. "And I was wrong, too. You're still stubborn, even without the fever."

She snorted, allowing herself to relax.

"I'll tell as much as I can," she began, relenting to his questioning. He wouldn't leave her alone about the subject until he got a satisfying answer. "But what did Heat tell you of the clan born from the waves? There are multiple versions of the tale."

He quickly summarized what his healer had told about the matriarchal clan, and when he was done, she could see how confused the whole story left him. She wasn't surprised. It was meant to confuse anyone who tried to think too much about that clan. It was also why there were a number of versions with subtle differences in each. The one he heard was the most common among the svear.

"That tale's a ruse, isn't it? None of it's true," Kid asked.

"Some is true, but most isn't," she nodded. "And most of the lies are… _twisted truths_. When I learned the stories, both true and false, I couldn't make sense of it, either. But, I _was_ a child at the time."

"Why the deceit?"

"It's just as your healer said – men sought the power the clan held, they tried to claim them and use them. If everyone knew the true nature of the clan, they would never know peace." She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, trying to decide what more to tell him. She couldn't risk telling him the whole truth. She couldn't believe it herself, after all, even after seeing the night Bellemere told her the story and being reminded of just where she came from. When she let out her breath and looked to Kid again, he was sitting on the ground, eagerly waiting for her version of the tale. He looked like nothing more than a curious child, not a fearsome berserker or annoying Jarl.

"Long, long ago, there had been a clan born of the billows. They could work seidr well, but nothing like the clan I was born from. They brought bountiful catches when the men fished with their nets. They spelled their longboats to see them safely over the waters. And they saw a number of prosperous years, filled with the gods' blessings." Nami sighed when she caught Kid leaning forward. Truly little better than an excited child listening to an old legend. "With each generation, the clan began to lose its power and blessings. They didn't understand why. They had made all the same sacrifices to Rán, had done their best to keep the lineage pure, but still their magic seemed to wane.

"It's told that one day a Valkyrie came, carrying a babe wrapped in the fur of a mountain cat, with strings of gold and amber held in her tiny hands. The Valkyrie told them that the gods had chosen them to take in the child, promising renewed blessings and prosperity so long as they claimed her as one of theirs, and refused anyone else seeking to claim her, or her progeny, for any reason.

"Of course, they agreed, and the child was passed to their high priestess. The Valkyrie whispered to her the child's true nature, and bound her from sharing the truth with anyone outside the clan."

"What was her true nature?" Kid interrupted.

Nami gave him a look of reproach, but he only stared back, intently waiting for the answer.

"If she could not tell anyone outside the clan, then what makes you think _I_ can?" Nami huffed. "All I can tell you is that her mother was not born from a woman of Midgard." Kid frowned at her cryptic answer, but Nami ignored it and continued to elaborate. "The mother, the first prophetess of the lineage, had been desired by many, but refused all. She laid with a man in ritual, a man who only thought her to be an average spae-wife. After she gave birth to her daughter, though, the man returned, saying he had seen her for who she truly was, and claimed her and her daughter as his possessions. When the mother refused, he grew violently mad.

"He brought war to their small village. His forces slaughtered any who stood in their way, and any who dared run. They looted the homes before burning them all to the ground, leaving nothing to remain in their wake. The villagers had sent the priestess away, urging her to flee with her child. The madman caught up to them, and in a fit of rage cut the mother down from behind. She clung to life long enough to draw the sword she stole away with. They say the Valkyries had come to her aid in that moment, leant strength to her dying frame, and restrained the unworthy man daring to take her and the child. Her sword ran through his heart while all her blood had pooled in the mud around her."

Nami took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She hated this story, if only because it truly was the beginning of the curse.

"Her body died cradling her infant daughter close, while her spirit lingered just long enough to wrap the girl in her furs and gold. She would have fought against death longer, but the Valkyries swore to take the child somewhere safe so that her soul could rest at peace in Freyja's realm."

"Heat said the unworthy man was cursed with madness for trying to take her," Kid grunted, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would he be cursed for trying to claim his daughter and take the mother as wife?"

Nami's brow rose. "He never intended to claim them as wife and daughter. I said he claimed them as _possessions_. He meant to take them as slaves, to use their seidr for his own gain, and possibly gain the favor of their ancestors. His madness came from his _greed_."

"Tsh, every man's greedy," he grunted. "So no man is worthy."

She caught herself smiling. "While that is true, some men's greed can only be fulfilled with their own power. They have no desire to use the magic of a woman or child. They will attain a prosperous fate with their own hands, their own sword."

"Are you saying they might be worthy?"

"I can't say for certain. No man like that has ever sought one of my ancestors for himself."

Kid hummed, a mixture of thought and understanding in the sound as he nodded to himself.

"So what of the clan who came to claim the orphan?" he asked, pulling the tale back to where she had been before he interrupted.

"At first, life was peaceful and prosperity returned to their village, just as promised. The daughter was claimed as the high priestess' child and given the name of a billow. When asked of the furs and gold, the priestess said the child had been blessed by the gods with the gifts to celebrate the newly birthed magic within the clan. None thought to question it since her magic was not too different from theirs. While she was gifted with sight, her seidr was just as strong in blessing their nets and boats, and as she grew older, they saw she had a natural proclivity for the sea and navigating. It made sense to them. She was a daughter of the sea, after all. Her foresight was only considered an added blessing.

"But when she came of age, the priestess brought her adopted daughter into more rituals. With the knowledge of what happened to her mother, the priestess took care in vetting any man who showed interest in the young woman for her first bedding. She turned away many before allowing one to lay with her in a fertility ritual."

"Why even let her lay with anyone?" Kid growled. "If they were so afraid of a man going mad, they should have avoided it altogether."

"Because her mother had already foreseen what would come from her lineage's survival."

"Did she see that she would have to die for that future to come to pass?"

"No one knows."

"And what is this great future she had to protect, anyway? So the lineage is gifted with foresight. It might be rare, but it isn't unique to you. Other priestesses have been known to hold that power."

"But no other share the potential this one clan did."

"And what potential is that?"

Nami pursed her lips.

"Nami?" he urged.

"If I told you what she was claimed to have seen, then you might desire it for yourself," she pointed out. "Even though I doubt it's possible to attain."

"I take it that it's safe to assume the men who have lain with your clan came to understand this potential?" Kid asked. When Nami kept her mouth tight and glared, he huffed in annoyance. "Alright. Keep your great secret."

She nodded gratefully at his retreat from that subject, as grudging as it was. She truly doubted the prophecy her ancestor had supposedly seen, but she wouldn't let Kid, or anyone, entertain the possibility it was true. She still wished the whole tale was nothing more than a bedtime story.

"So this next daughter – I take it the man went mad, just as her father had?" Kid asked.

"He did, and just like her mother, she was fatally wounded while protecting her daughter."

"Whatever this power is, it can't be worth the price this clan is paying," he grumbled.

"And the gods agreed," Nami said. "After the second slaughter, the gods came together at Freyja's behest to find a better means to protect the daughters. Odin agreed to send his Valkyries to choose the nine strongest maidens to bear shield and sword, and send them to protect the mothers and daughters born thereafter. Each generation would receive nine new maidens to shield them. At the same time, the priestesses of the billows' clan that survived the last slaughter were permitted to know the truth of the daughters with the understanding that they spread tales of the curse that had fallen upon the clan because of the actions of a wicked, unworthy man."

"So they're not really cursed?"

Nami frowned. "I think they were cursed the moment they entered this realm. I believe they were _born_ cursed. Their potential should never have been brought to a world where it can be abused by men."

"Cynical," Kid mused. "But probably wise given the scum that seek power through any means."

She nodded and pushed on with the tale. "For about ten generations, the shieldmaidens defended the prophet daughters of the clan. Without fail, each generation had to war with the father of the next, but their warriors were always successful in driving them away. Some men died in the battles, but those that survived continued to walk the realm, as mad with greed and dark desire as they were when they sought to claim the power they were never worthy of. They all died within ten years of their defeat."

"And what of you? Was your generation of warriors the one that failed?"

Nami frowned and looked away. "Yes. Only one survived. She smuggled me away and hid with me in Tingstad, the village she had been born in. Jarl Genzo offered the same protection you're offering me, swore none would learn of our presence there. I was raised without knowing about my birth family until I was nine, and I didn't believe a word of it until I was ten and Arlong came. Even then I doubted it… The last week, since I washed ashore, has made me more willing to believe some of it."

"Heat said with the mark frayed, your magic would begin to awaken as it should have," Kid said, and then frowned thoughtfully. "Is Arlong your father?"

Nami released a sharp laugh. "No. He most certainly is _not_ my father."

"Then why does he wish to claim you? I thought it was only the father who desired the power of the mother and daughter."

"He knows nothing of my clan's potential or true nature. He only believes me to be one of Rán's daughters, blessed by the sea, just as he was the same through Aegir. He intends to use me to create an empire for himself and destroy the unworthy who think they hold sovereignty over everyone. He means to go to war with the Christians."

"And how will he use you for that purpose?"

"I failed to ask him his whole plan before I ran away," she said.

"You knew enough that you felt you had to run," Kid pointed out, his eyes narrowing on her. She raised her brow and pointedly refused to say more. She didn't wish to give voice to Arlong's intentions. She would rather drown in the sea he so loves than think to entertain his ambitions. When Kid saw that he would not be getting any more from her, he sighed and leaned forward, propping his chin in a hand as he turned pensive. "You said it was Odin who sent the Valkyries to pick your family's protectors?"

Nami nodded. "They swore their oaths to Odin and Freyja, wore strings of silver beads etched with the likeness of a raven and boar, and had bracelets gifted by the Valkyries that chose them for the honor." Her hand went to play with the gold bangle on her wrist, drawing Kid's gaze to the trinket.

He grunted in understanding and stared at the bracelet for a long, silent moment. When he met her gaze again, he wore a determined look.

"Your shieldmaidens failed in the end," he said bluntly. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering as the barbed comment struck close to her heart. "That's why you were brought to me. Odin's decided you need the protection of his warriors now. Merciless wolves who will tear every threat apart, limb from limb."

"And you intend to follow your god's will?" she asked. "Even knowing the danger?"

"I intend to keep your usurper-Jarl from finding you. And should you ever lay with a man to continue your lineage, I won't take any risk of him proving unworthy. I'll kill him the moment he steps out of your bed. That's what those women should have been doing from the start if they were so set on passing these _gifts_ to another generation," he growled, and she didn't miss the sarcastic bite he gave to her _gifts_. It seemed he shared her opinion of them being more a curse than a blessing. "A mad man can't return to harm you if I send him straight to Hel."

She frowned. He needed to know. As much as she wished for her dream to only be a dream, a feverish delusion, she could not risk it coming to pass.

"You will die," she whispered.

He glared. "You don't know that."

She met his glare with a hard stare that she couldn't hold for long before it became tinged with sadness. She saw realization dawn on him as tears stung her eyes.

"As I said…" she said softly. "You _will_ die… At the feet of a giant."

Kid took a deep breath, and then let it out in a long rush.

"Then I'll die…" he decided with a firm nod. "But I'll see that giant dies with me."

That single declaration was all it took to make her tears fall free. She didn't want to grieve another death. She didn't want to see her dream turn into reality. She didn't want this cursed fate.

She buried her face in her arms, unable to hold back the sob that racked through her whole body. She refused to look up when she heard him stand. She didn't move until she felt something soft and warm fall over her head, blocking out the world and shrouding her in darkness. Her grief was lodged in her throat for a moment as she listened to him walk away, finally leaving her to the solitude she had desired.

When she couldn't hear the sound of his feet crunching on the soil and twigs and stones of the pathway, Nami sank into the fur draped around her, drawing it tight, and let herself grieve the fate darkening their future.

And wished for the power to change it all.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So, I was super excited when I saw sleep thorns were a thing in Old Norse tradition and legend. They're called a Svefnthorn and are typically used in trickery, but in 'The Saga of the Volsungs', Odin used one on the Valkyrie Brynhildr to put her in a deep sleep that she would not be able to awaken from until someone crossed the large circle of fire he had lit around her body, which the hero Sigurd eventually accomplished. It's like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, but with powerful Norse deities and warriors. I played with the look of it, in a sense, but there isn't much known on what specifically the thorn looked like and there were different spells recounted for it, but they all involve four needle-like (or harpoon-like) runes being carved into something, usually wood._

 _Every time I write about Bellemere, I start to tear up. I just love her so much._

 _In case you guys didn't pick up on it between the dream and Nami's story - The silver beads that Bellemere wore, etched with ravens and boars, were symbolic of the gods she made her oath to. Ravens for Odin (as stated in the previous chapter, and obviously it's a symbol he's most associated with), while the boar is symbolic to Freyja (as well as her brother Freyr - both, especially the brother, are Vanir gods highly worshiped in Sweden). Freyja was always accompanied by the boar Hildisvini, and had a chariot pulled by two cats._

 _Also,_ _Västerås is a city that actually dates back to this time period, and still exists. The setting and location worked perfectly, so I used it. Agnafit is an old name for the area around Stockholm, which is set to the east of_ _Västerås._

 _And, I gave some huge hints in this chapter to who the matriarch goddess of Nami's family is, and at the same time explained who definitely isn't that figure. But I'm not going to say exactly who it is until the end. Because I'm sure you all have made some guesses by now, and I'm hoping you're all wrong. Close, but wrong._

 _Anyway, thank you for all the reviews so far! I'm glad a lot of you seem to be enjoying it. :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Selvedge_

He had thought seeing her wake up in tears was the worst sight he could see, but watching her break down in front of him, cry _for him_ – that was surely the most painful thing to witness.

People didn't cry for him. They cried _because_ of him. He doubted anyone outside of the men he fought with would mourn his passing, but there she was, mourning for him before he was even a ghost in her memory. He knew she was thinking of the others who suffered for her in the past, along with the inescapable fate that would make him yet another of them.

As he walked away from her, leaving her to grieve alone, he decided they were tears of self-pity, tears of despair over her ill fate and the curse she believed to be born with that tore people from this world. There was no way she could be so distraught over him, a stranger. She was crying for herself. That had to be it. Believing her tears to be for herself at least lessened the sharp dagger he felt twisting in his chest over the thought that some pitiful woman would cry for him.

It didn't take the pain away entirely, though, instead left it as a heavy ache weighing him down. He spent the rest of the day staring into a cup of ale trying to understand why.

His men seemed to sense his mood and stepped carefully around the hall to avoid disturbing him. He didn't even know they were there until Heat came in and dropped his fur cloak on the table in front of him.

"She's sleeping peacefully again," was all he said before joining the others around the fire.

He stared at the room that was typically filled with raucous laughter and song, and found his men huddled together, whispering and casting him thoughtful looks. He could smell supper and noticed the thralls were already hustling about, serving the men plates and ale.

How long had he been trapped in thought?

He shook away that question, along with his thoughts, and silently took in the meal he finally saw sitting in front of him. He had better things to think of than her tears, after all. Once his plate had been picked clean, he sat back to wash it down with warm ale. A servant came to clear his table, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Leave," he ordered, waving toward the door. "I want everyone out. Except my men."

She and the other thralls stared at him in confusion. Even his friends frowned in silent question. He'd answer them soon enough, but he wanted privacy for what he had to tell them, and a man couldn't trust a thrall to keep a secret.

"Out!" he bellowed, and the next moment the servants raced for the door, unwilling to test him further. "Bar the door," he ordered Wire as he stood to refill his cup with a pitcher one of the servants left behind. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this hall. You will not share this tale with anyone outside of this room, and I advise you all to forget it as soon as you hear it to lessen the temptation to gossip about it with the villagers."

There was no ringing agreement, but each nodded earnestly. They watched him take a seat on his table, patiently waiting for him to swallow down the ale in his cup as he gathered his thoughts. He wasn't sure how much he should share with his men. He trusted them to follow his orders, but Nami's warnings and fears left him uneasy. She didn't seem to understand her magic and foresight any more than he did, and there was no telling how it could affect the others. If one of his men were to become taken with her, she might no longer be safe among them.

It was a good thing Nami held some of the details for herself. He had less to lie about.

He told his men of Arlong, a man claiming to be a son of Aegir. He told them of the clan born of the billows and the orphan child they were given. He kept the origins of her ancestors to himself. They at least knew she was not descended from the clan. They didn't need to know that the mother of her ancestors was not of their realm, though most of them were smart enough to surmise as much on their own.

He told them of the shieldmaidens sworn to Odin and Freyja, and that Nami was likely brought to them to take up the task of her protection.

They all made grunts and calls of acceptance in their role. If the gods believed them capable of protecting someone close to them, then surely that meant they were worthy of entrance into Valhalla when the time came.

He didn't share Nami's prophecy of his fate. Their willingness to protect her might wane if they knew his life was forfeit in the end.

With the tale told, as riddled with holes as it was, his men sank into the revelry normally found in their hall at night. They were happy to prove their worth, and they thought Nami's presence would surely bless them and the village. They didn't care that they would inevitably have to go to war for her, be it against Arlong or some man whose mind was touched with madness; they would happily run headlong into battle without a thought for the fate they would meet in the end.

They were warriors to the core, after all. They found life in battle, right on the precipice of death.

While the hall took on a jovial mood, the men opened the doors to invite the servants back in to clean up their meal before Kid shooed them out once more, unwilling to trust them with any knowledge of Nami's purpose there. Once everyone was settled in with full pitchers of ale and the room was barred again, Kid kept to his chair, content to watch his men rather than join in with the festive atmosphere.

"Did she tell you what she dreamt?" Heat asked quietly as he took a seat at his table.

Kid frowned at him, as well as Killer and Wire who decided to join. They stared expectantly, and he let out a sigh, turning his gaze to the fire at the center of the room.

"She did," he grunted.

"And?"

"It's not good."

"And you're still willing to give her your protection?" Killer asked.

"If what she's seen is how my fate has been woven, I doubt there is any way to change course at this point. Even if I sent her away, somehow she would be guided back to us. If I killed her to avoid whatever war she might bring us, the gods would surely bring their wrath down on me, and see that the fate I meet is far worse than what she's dreamed of." He sank into his chair, glowering at nothing. "If I'm meant to die, then I'd rather it be of my own making."

And he'll see he doesn't leave their realm alone.

"Then what shall we do with her?" Wire asked this time. "You said you would find a use for her here. Do you still intend to put her to work, or will she remain a guest to be hidden from everyone outside this hall?"

Kid snorted. "She won't be useless here. She might be a seer, but she isn't a spoiled princess to be kept locked in a room and only shown off for a select few. And if we hid her, that would only stir more rumors. The servants would talk. And anyone in the village who takes notice of any clothes or jewelry we gather for her will surely start asking questions and spreading rumors, and _that_ will only bring word to that Jarl she's hiding from." He scratched his cheek in thought. "How much longer do you wish to keep her, Heat?"

"Her fever has broken, but I want to keep an eye on her until she's regained all her stamina. Her nightmares left her exhausted. Give her a few more day's rest, and then she can be moved wherever you wish to keep her."

Kid nodded. "When you believe she's well enough, we'll move her into my hall. I can find work for her here."

"And what do you plan to tell the villagers?" asked Killer.

Kid hadn't thought that far ahead, but he knew he would have to come up with a story for them. He didn't want them to see her as a slave or lowly servant, she could be mistreated then. To bring a free woman into his home, though; she had to be important, given a position worthy of respect.

"Her seidr," he murmured to himself, and then sat upright, raising his voice so the others might hear. "We'll claim her to be the daughter of a Jarl seeking my alliance, entrusted to us as a ward while acting as a priestess. If the tale is true, her clan's magic was useful in blessing ships and sails. She's here to provide us with good fortune and prosperity at sea. But see that they continue to send outsiders to me should any come asking of her."

"Do you really think they'll come this far in search of her?" Wire asked. "Heat said she sailed here in a faerring. This Jarl surely has to believe Nami is dead if she ventured out into the straits alone."

"He believes her to be blessed by Rán. He won't believe that she died at sea unless he sees her body on the ocean floor. From what she told me, it sounds as though his ambition has driven him to search for her even after hearing that the clan had been slaughtered. He won't be easily discouraged." He sank back into his chair again. "And Nami won't be discouraged, either. She doesn't want my protection, even if she knows she needs it. I have no doubt that she'll run at the first opportunity or sign of danger."

"You want her watched at all times?" Killer asked.

"As much as possible." Kid nodded.

"I'll arrange it," his friend said.

He merely nodded his gratitude and sank into another pensive silence.

Hours later, her sobs continued to weigh on him. He'd have to make sure she never cried like that again.

* * *

He kept his distance from her for a day, unwilling to risk witnessing another break down. Killer visited her instead and returned with word of her improved mood. He claimed that she was smiling and laughing, and well enough to help Heat with chores around the house. He wasn't sure if he could believe that her attitude had turned around that much, but he hoped for her sake that it had.

It was late morning two days after she shared her tale when he ventured back toward the secluded home. He could hear the echoing chop of an axe splitting wood as he climbed over wet earth and rocks, through thin trees, and wasn't surprised to see Heat out in his yard, hard at work. What he hadn't expected to hear as he came closer was the tinkling sound of a woman's laughter.

He hung back at the slender fence around the property to watch Nami attempt to feed Heat's pigs. They were eager for the slop she carried in a bucket and crowded around her legs while she tried to get into their pen. A thrall woman was helping push the pigs away, slipping on soft soil in the process. Her struggles seemed to be the source for Nami's laughter. But as far as he could tell, her amusement wasn't malicious. She even grabbed the other woman's arm to keep her on her feet.

Most people didn't show any sort of kindness or familiarity to a servant so far beneath them.

He pushed away from the fence once she poured the slop into the small wooden trough. She took notice of him as he headed toward her, and all her good cheer was lost into a deep frown. He ignored the wariness in her gaze and grinned at her.

"I see Heat's put you hard at work," he remarked, sauntering toward the pen.

The thrall wasted no time in heading to the house, her gaze set on the ground as she passed him. Nami watched after her, eyes narrowed in annoyance when they turned back to him. She didn't try to rush off, herself, and took her time to latch the pen.

"I'm grateful for everything Heat's done to help me," Nami said as he leaned against the pen railing. "I'm more than happy to help with his chores while I stay here."

Kid nodded. "Good. When I move you to the hall, I'll see you have plenty to do to show your gratitude to me, too."

She sent him a withering glare.

He chuckled at her ire. "Don't look at me like that. You agreed to it. I have to get fair compensation somehow."

"I have no problem helping around your hall and the village, Kid, but I'd rather not stay at your house."

It was his turn to scowl. "Why not?"

Nami shrugged and began to move toward the house, but he stood straight to cut off her path. She sighed heavily and shifted the bucket that he noticed still had some slop left in it.

He took a step back when she glared. She rolled her eyes and propped a hand on a cocked hip, letting the bucket hang limply from her other hand. She didn't look ready to throw anything at him, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she lost her temper.

"I think it would be best if I stay out of the village. If anyone comes searching for me, it'll be easier to escape. When Arlong came for me as a child, he almost missed our home because it was a ways from the village. He only searched for it after seeing the smoke."

"He still found you."

"We had a better chance of escaping."

"Then why didn't you?"

She looked away with a frown. "I didn't want to leave Bellemere behind," she explained softly. "But I won't have that hesitation this time. If I'm here and given warning, I'll run."

"I'd rather you remain with me. You'll be safer in my home, surrounded by me and my men. No one can take you from my hall," he argued.

"And if Arlong comes and manages to get into your hall, passed whatever guards you give me, then I'll be cornered in your home with no hope of escape," she reasoned.

"That won't happen."

"You don't know that," she snapped back.

He took a step toward her with a growl. "You're my responsibility now, and I'm the one in charge around here. You'll do as say, and not argue about it."

"You can't boss me around," she huffed.

His brow arched, mildly amused at her stubbornness. "Fine. Then I'll tie you up and haul you over my shoulder to get you into my home, and then I'll lock you in a closet to keep you there. Would you rather that, or will you come willingly?"

Her jaw dropped, and then snapped shut. She glared hard and he swore he heard a growl rumbling in her throat.

"I'll take that to mean I don't need to keep rope on me," he said, laughing.

"Jerk," she hissed under her breath.

He merely threw his head back and laughed again. "Just be happy you get your own bed and quarters. You don't seem the type who would enjoy sleeping in a room surrounded by strange men."

She huffed again, and didn't bother to thank him for the consideration.

Seeing that she was well, and not crying, he turned to head back to the village.

"We'll have your room ready tomorrow," he said. "In the meantime, I think you ought to practice catching the mice around here."

"Why?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well, you're our new stray cat. Only stands to reason that you catch some mice for us," he teased, walking away from her backwards to watch her jaw tick with annoyance. "Got to earn your keep somehow." He began to walk faster when she followed after him, her hand gripping tight to the slop bucket. He grinned at the spark of anger in her eye. "There's some fat ones in the stable, too. Might be a good meal for you one night." He chuckled when he noticed a hint of a smile show through her irritation. She seemed to know he was only teasing her. That was good. Though, he really didn't like the determination in her gait as she sped up. "Just promise you won't leave the dead mice in my bed like the last cat did."

He knew she was going to throw the rest of the slop at him, but she moved faster than he could dart out of the way. He listened to her laugh while scrapping ground barley and chunks of vegetables off his face. Her laughter died at the sound of his growl, and she jumped back with a quiet shriek when his glare settled on her.

She screamed when he took a step toward her, and took off running for the house.

"You little witch," he growled, and quickly chased after her.

He batted away the bucket she threw in a vain attempt to hold him at bay. She twisted away from his hand when he made to grab her, and he swore he heard a quiet giggle when he grazed her arm. She sped up to put more distance between them, and got into the house with enough time to slam the door shut in his face. He heard her call for the thrall inside to help lower the bar on the door. He probably could have crashed right through if he tried hard enough, but he skidded to a halt and threw a half-hearted strike at the wood.

He could feel Heat's glare on the back of his head, but ignored it as he tried to peer through the door slats to catch a glimpse of the snickering woman on the other side. He caught a flash of orange hair, and the barest peek of a brown eye.

"You can't hide in there forever," he said, wearing a malicious grin that grew when he heard a stifled laugh. He leaned in close to level his eye on hers through the slats. "I'll pay you back three times over for this." He could just make out the amused crinkling at the corner of her eye, and stepped back to lightly rap on the wood where her head would be. He was glad she didn't see him as a threat. He was especially glad that she wasn't sinking into melancholy with her fate. Life for them would be far easier if she kept on smiling like that. "I'll be back for you in a few days. Don't cause Heat any trouble until then."

When he turned to leave, he caught Heat watching him with a thoughtful glower. He ignored the look and sauntered down the hill to his village.

Even dripping with slop and in desperate need of a bath, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face.

* * *

By week's end, Heat had given him leave to take Nami to his hall. During that time, he and the men rearranged the private living quarters of the hall.

His men that didn't have their own homes usually slept out in the main room, on fur beds that were tucked into chests during the day. Most any guests that came to his hall slept in the room with them, but Kid doubted Nami would enjoy that. The front room was also too exposed, even if they barred the doors at night, so Kid was reluctant about leaving her there.

The previous Jarl had built separate quarters near the back, partially hidden from the rest of the house behind half built walls, leather nets, and sheer linen curtains. One room held the large bed the previous Jarl had shared with his wife, a dark wooden table, a number of chests filled with furs, bedding, and stores of gold, and a cushioned bench that sat at the end of the bed. There was a room beside it, separated with a heavier curtain of leather and linen, that the former Jarl had set aside for his daughter. It had some measure of privacy, but still allowed the family to keep an eye on the girl and keep her from danger.

When Kid moved in, he had originally torn down those curtains to expand his room into the other, keeping the space for extra storage. Now he had put the curtains back and cleared out the weapons he had stored in there. They spread thick fur pelts over the wood floors to keep the room cozy and warm, and Kid built a new bed for Nami. He had an extra chest in his room that he moved to hers. Eventually she would have more clothing to fill the container, but for now it only held bedding she might want on especially cold nights. He wasn't sure what else she might need in there, but he felt that for now the basics would be enough.

That afternoon he prepared to head up to Heat's to bring her to the village, already expecting he might have to drag her down there, but paused when he spotted the healer in the front room of his hall, chatting with Wire.

"Nami wanted to see more of the village today," he explained, gesturing toward the door. "Killer offered to escort her around."

Kid grunted his thanks and headed off in search of her. He went to the main road where people set up markets for trade. He found no sign of her or Killer on the crowded path, but a villager pointed him in the direction they had gone. Apparently she already managed to befriend one of the women.

The home she had found herself in was situated well inside the village, a number of other wooden homes crowded around the small hovel. The road there was narrow and Kid had to dart to the side just outside the home when a group of children went running out with sticks in hand to act as swords. He heard them arguing about who would be Sigurd and save Brynhildr, and watched them chase and smack each other for a moment before the sound of Nami's laughter drew his attention back to the house.

She sat inside by a small fire, a little girl no older than five standing between Nami's legs as she watched her sew up a garment. Killer sat on the floor near her, his feet propped on wooden stool as he sipped from a cup of ale. And in the corner, at the home's tall loom, was the old lady who lived there, busy weaving woolen threads for cloth.

"Making friends, I see," Kid said as he ducked into the home.

Killer glanced up with a smile and let his feet drop from the stool to invite Kid to sit. Nami looked up from her work long enough to greet him with a hint of a smile.

"Killer told me that Ingrid was kind enough to lend me one of her daughter's old dresses," Nami explained, nodding toward the old woman who abandoned her loom to get him a cup. "We ran into her while she was buying some yarn."

Kid settled onto the stool and grinned at the old woman as she handed over his ale. She was one of the nicer villagers he genuinely liked, even before he became Jarl. Her house was a favorite place for the younger kids to visit, especially those who had nowhere else to go. Ingrid's husband had died decades earlier. Her son died in battle only a few years ago, and the man's wife fell ill two winters before and passed, leaving their daughter in the old woman's care.

A weathered hand with knotted joints pressed to his shoulder as Ingrid leaned down to press a peck to his forehead, letting out a hoarse laugh when he tried to edge away from the affection. Nami had glanced up to see the gesture and wore a strangely amused smile that left him uneasy, even if he preferred that expression over her sadness.

"You picked up a sweet woman while you were away," Ingrid remarked as she stood straight and headed back to her loom. "Offered to keep those stray pups busy while I worked, and even took up some of my mending. The gods know I can't sew a proper seam anymore with these hands."

"Are you the reason the boys are running wild in the village now?" Kid asked, smirking at Nami.

She was intent on showing Ingrid's granddaughter how to tie off her stitching, but managed to let out a short laugh.

"They overheard us talking about the sleep thorn Heat made for me," Nami began to explain.

Ingrid cut her off with a huff and turned back to wag a disapproving finger at him. "That healer of yours was dabbling in dangerous magic. Should never have taken that risk."

Kid glared. When he learned about the sleep thorn, he had shared that same opinion, but seeing Nami in better spirits now made him hesitate to disparage his healer's decision. It obviously helped her heal as she needed.

"I keep telling her that it was just fine," Nami said with a sigh, even rolling her eyes at the old woman who waved her off with a quiet "Bah!" to express her continued disapproval before returning to the loom. "Anyway, Ingrid mentioned Brynhildr, and the boys had to hear the story of how Sigurd crossed the fire Odin had set to wake her from the enchantment. They decided I must be Brynhildr since one of Odin's men put me to sleep, and now they're all trying to see who is worthy enough to be my Sigurd."

He chuckled at the cocky expression she wore. "Too bad one of Odin's men already woke you," he said, leaning forward to grin at her. "Does that make me your Sigurd?"

She let out a sharp laugh that clearly said he wasn't. Ingrid tossed a roll of thread at him, sharing Nami's opinion on the ludicrous idea. Even Killer chuckled quietly into his cup.

"Someday I'll slay a dragon and have you all swallowing that laughter," Kid huffed.

"Don't aspire to be a reflection of a dead hero, Jarl Kid," Ingrid lectured. "You aspire to be your own kind of hero, slay gods and giants, as well as dragons, and we'll weave some good tales of you to pass on after you enter Valhalla."

He snorted as he downed the last of his drink, and shot Nami a quick look. Her amusement had waned as she put her attention back on the little girl. The clothing she was mending was a dress for the child, and she was helping tug it over her head. When she noticed him watching her, she held his gaze with a chilling frown for a moment, and then she was back at dressing the child.

There was no doubt she was thinking of the giant he swore to slay for her, and now her good humor was lost.

"I'll keep that in mind, old lady," Kid grunted as he pushed off the stool. He tossed his cup onto a table. "Thanks for the ale, but I need to get my guest settled into the hall."

"She's staying with you?" Ingrid asked, glancing over her shoulder at him with a cocked brow.

"Cleaned up the women's quarters for her," he answered with a nod.

A raspy hum escaped the old woman's throat and then she was back to her weaving. He couldn't even begin to guess where her thoughts lay, but it didn't matter to him as he waved toward the door to signal Nami and Killer leave with him.

Nami stood, smoothed out her dress, and then turned for the door. She paused when Ingrid's granddaughter grasped the hem of her skirt and pouted up at her. Nami managed to smile again as she crouched down to kindly pat the girl on the head.

"I'll come by to play again," she promised, and then glanced up at the old woman who had taken to watching her curiously. The smile she wore was radiant, though Kid noted a hint of strain to give away the more somber thoughts lurking in her mind. "If you need help with the kids or mending again, just send word."

Ingrid nodded, then waved her off. "I'll keep that in mind, though I've a feeling our Jarl will keep you busy enough. The man's never had a proper woman in his house. Be mindful he doesn't take advantage and work you to the bone like one of his thralls."

Nami looked at him with a raised brow, surely wondering if she should take that warning to heart.

He rolled his eyes and headed out the door. He wasn't going to treat her like a damn slave, and she should know as much. If he intended that, he wouldn't have given her a separate room, and he definitely wouldn't have cared enough to let her stay with Heat until she was fully recovered.

He'd have made her sleep in the stables or shed if he intended to use her in that manner.

He didn't have to look back to know she and Killer followed him out, and led the way back to his hall. At least Nami was done arguing with him about her housing, and he was glad that she was making an effort to learn the village. This place was going to be her home for the foreseeable future, after all.

At the hall, Nami stopped just inside the door and stared wide-eyed at the men loitering inside. The sight seemed to leave her wary, and Kid was certain that the only reason she hadn't run away was because Killer stood behind her, barring her way out.

"Guys," Kid called out, waving between Nami and his men. "This is Nami. Nami, stop staring at 'em like they're giants. They aren't going to hurt you." As she gave him a stuttered nod, he shot a glare at the men staring back at her. He noticed that a few seemed to be enjoying the new female presence more than they should be. "If any of 'em do hurt you, just let me know and I'll make sure none of them touch you again."

That got his men looking away from her, clearing their throats as they nodded their understanding of the threat. They might be his friends and most trusted fighters, but his orders were absolute, and they knew to heed them, or he would not hesitate to remind them why he was the Jarl.

Nami seemed appeased with their compliance and took a tentative step toward him. Impatient, he grasped her by the arm and tugged her along toward the back. He showed her the hall that led to a side door and path to the outhouse, another hall held his smaller food stores and casks of ale. He had three farms he took from the previous Jarl that were leased out to others, each paid for use of the land and gave him a share of the crops to keep at the hall. One farmer made the best ale in the region, and he agreed to send him an unlimited supply in exchange for a fourth farm. And then Killer still owned his own lands, which he left in the care of servants to oversee his livestock and provide their meat, so food was plentiful for them most years.

Once they were at the back, Kid took her to the living quarters he arranged for her and pulled back the linen drapery that acted as a door. Nami was silent as she stepped passed him to inspect the smaller room, her expression closed off and unreadable. He didn't think much of that as he let the fabric drop behind her and went further into the room.

"I'll be on the other side of this curtain," he said, winding his fingers through the net-like leather curtain that hung on either side of the heavy fur and linen draperies he placed in the middle of the space. Metal fastenings bounded the strips of leather together and shone in the dim light of the candles sitting atop a wooden table beside her bed. "If anyone comes for you in the night, I'll hear it."

She nodded, not bothering to look toward his room as her gaze continued to cast over her own. He moved toward the back wall where he hung a tapestry decorated with a knotted snake that was collected from the Saxons during a raid before he became Jarl, and pushed it aside while waving her over.

"And since you were worried about being cornered in here," he began to explain as she came closer, and crouched down to a spot near the floor where he had cut away the boards to make an escape hatch. He nailed a peg to the top of the small door to hold it closed, and masked the hinges at the bottom as best he could. With a flick of the peg, the door fell out to create an opening just big enough for Nami to squeeze through. He heard Nami gasp as she knelt down to peer out the hatch. "Leads into the forest. If we're attacked, you can run while we fight. There's some old caves and crevices out there that you can hide in. Once it's safe, someone will come find you."

"And if I keep running?" she asked, glancing at him. "If I hide out in the forest and wait for you to come find me, there's the chance that anyone else can find me."

Kid shrugged. "I'll leave that up to you. My men know to track you down if you run, and it's just as you said, if we're defeated, anyone else can come looking for you." He watched her gaze drift back to the escape hatch. He didn't like the contemplative frown she wore. Tugging the trap door shut, he locked it up and let the tapestry fall in place to conceal it. He turned to her and glared. "You'll be running forever. No matter what happens. Just trust that me and my men will keep you safe."

"I still don't think you have to do this," she said quietly. "I'm not worth it."

He reached out to flick her forehead. Her sullen air vanished with a heated glare as she rubbed the spot.

"I don't know much about you, but obviously someone out there thinks you're worth something if they sent you to me." He leaned forward with a grin. "And what little I do know about you tells me they're not wrong."

Her eyes went wide and mouth fell open as he pushed himself to his feet. He ignored her surprise and yanked her up with him to head toward his room.

"One more thing I have to show you," he said, pushing aside the curtains and dragging her along with him. She struggled for a moment until she noticed the table that sat just on the other side of the curtain. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked over the parchment laid flat over the desk, held down with little iron wolves. It wasn't what he meant to show her, but her reaction had him curious, so he released her and watched as she stepped closer to inspect the papers.

They weren't anything like the treasures most Norse brought back from their raids, but their rarity in the north made them more valuable to Jarls and Kings than all the gold in the lands… Because they showed them where they might sail to find more gold.

Nami's hand carefully drifted over the sea charts he had claimed during a trip to Paris. A finger followed the coast of the farthest southern tip of their lands' coast. She traced around Hedeby and the lands of the Danes, down the channels to the coastline of the Frankish Empire. She paused and seemed to hesitate at the lands given to their ancestors' cousins – Normandy – but then she quickly continued on her path until she reached the Iberian Peninsula and tapped a finger on the Mediterranean Sea as she looked up at him with a small smile.

"These are some amazing maps," she said. "Where did you get them?"

"Paris," he said and came to stand at her side, lifting the map she was looking over to show the stack of charts beneath. There was one of the islands to the west belonging to the Saxons. Another showed the lands further to the east where the Rus had settled. "You mentioned your clan was skilled at navigation."

Nami nodded, all her reservations washed away in the face of those rare treasures. He watched, intrigued, as she bent over the table to look over the others.

"We are. I always loved to see the charts Jarl Genzo would bring back from trading routes to the south. He has one of the western coast of Africa, and he promised to take me on a trading journey there when I was older," she explained, a hint of bittersweet excitement in her voice at the story. "When I was a kid, he took me out in the longships to teach me how to navigate a ship through the straits. I turned out to be a quick learner, and taught him more than he ever taught me." There was sadness in her laugh as she flipped the maps down to look at the one that showed the southern edge of Svealand and her home. "I stole some spare parchment and ink from him once to draw out my own map of the straits and rivers around Götaland. I finished it the day before Arlong came."

Kid hummed, unsure what he could say to the nostalgic story she shared on her own. The sound was enough to shake her from the melancholy threatening to weigh her down again, and she stood straight with a quiet sniffle. He took in the forced smile she wore, and felt that stabbing ache settle in his chest.

He really hated that feeling.

He grabbed her arm to tug her away from the table, ignoring her huff of annoyance. "Good to know you understand those maps, but that wasn't what I wanted to show you," he said, his tone gruffer than he meant it to be as he forced away the uncomfortable sensation that came with her sadness. "The clan that hid your lineage used the seers to weave and bless their sails, right?"

"They did," Nami said with a nod as they came to one of the chests to the back wall of the room.

He released her to open the chest and yanked out an old sail. It was the sail of the first ship he ever built, torn and tattered and completely useless to him now, but he had too many sentiments of it to ever part with the fabric. He shook it open, and Nami stepped back to cough as dust and dirt flew into the air. It had been stored away for too long.

"This is from my first ship," he explained as he held out the black fabric to her. "I want you to use this to cut out wolf sigils and make new flags for my ships to give them the gods' favor."

"This chore isn't going to keep me that busy," Nami mused as she fingered the coarse wool.

"But it'll do for now."

Kid shut the chest and turned to watch Nami continue to play with the old sail, wearing a thoughtful expression. He flicked her forehead again.

"Stop that," she shrieked, pulling away to rub at the spot he struck.

"I can say the same to you," he growled. "Stop looking like you're trapped in some Underworld prison."

Nami pouted at him, somehow managing to make that knife in his chest twist in a different direction, equally as painful.

This time he gave her cheek a pinch and tugged up to create a mockery of a half-smile, ignoring her annoyed shrieks the whole time.

"Stop looking at me like that," he ordered as she batted at his hand. "It's annoying."

She stepped back until he relinquished his hold and glared at him while rubbing the bright red spot on her face. "You're annoying," she snapped. "I might be staying, but I don't have to be happy about it."

"It'll be less of a headache for me if you at least _try_ not to sulk and look at me like I'm already dead. It's depressing."

He watched sadness flicker through her eyes, and then a trace of guilt touched her frown. When his eyes narrowed on her, she hardened her expression into a glare and then turned away with a hiss.

Kid sighed and shoved her toward her room. "Go wash up. I've planned for a feast to welcome you into the hall. Hopefully we get you to smile at least one more time tonight."

Nami's lips curved into a terse frown, as though she would stubbornly refuse to smile for the rest of the day, but then she nodded and headed toward her room without further argument. When the curtains fell in place between their rooms, Kid stood watching them sway and settle back into place. He sank down onto his bed once they stilled and slipped his fingers through his hair with a tired groan.

He couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to make a run for it soon.

He probably shouldn't have shown her that damn escape hatch.

* * *

When Nami found her way to the main room for supper, she saw that Kid wasn't lying about the feast. The tables were covered with more dishes than they could fit, while the air resonated with raucous laughter and song. The room was awash with light from the stone fire pit at its center, and the sconces hanging from the beams and ceiling. It was warm and inviting, unlike all the feasts she had been a part of over the last eight years. While Arlong held his fair share of suppers and festivals, they were only for his men, leaving the rest of the village to sit in cold silence in their homes around the hall. Here the hall doors were wide open, and the free men and women living in the village were welcome to partake in the revelry and rich meal.

The scents of venison and boar wafted to her. She spied plate upon plate of fish, slathered in butter and onions. Freshly baked bread sat in baskets, with bowls of cabbage stew nearby, and plates piled with cheese wedges were fit wherever there was room. Servant women moved through the over-crowded hall with pitchers of ale filled to the brim to lend to the rowdiness of the guests.

It was early season, so Nami guessed that Kid had an ample food store to provide his men and guests with the lavish meal. Hopefully he hadn't depleted it solely for this single feast.

"Nami," Kid called out from the head table where he sat in an elaborate chair decorated with fur and hide and bone.

As he waved her over, his guests all turned their attention to her. The men who hadn't been in the hall earlier stared the longest, their assessment broken up with a swift cuff to the head and whispered words of warning as they pointed to the Jarl. She took some solace in the knowledge that Kid's orders would be heeded, that she would be safe among his men.

Assuming she stayed.

Once at Kid's side, he stood and pressed his hand to the small of her back. She wanted to shift away from the warmth seeping through her dress and the almost proprietary touch, but his fingers gently curled into the fabric, as if he knew what she would do, and held her there.

Everyone stilled at the sight of their Jarl standing, their conversations fell silent, and Nami noticed more villagers squeezing in at the door to listen in on what Kid had to say. He had a large presence that demanded attention, and anyone who might not believe he was a Jarl would be proven sorely wrong once they witnessed his easy command.

"I know you've all heard we have a guest staying in the village," he began. "Jarl Ingvar to the west has sent his only daughter to us as a ward and token of good faith between us."

Nami glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, curious of the lie he was telling. Surely they couldn't just believe him at his word, not when he carried her in on horseback days before after riding to the south. Plenty of villagers had seen her with him. But looking back out to the room, she saw no one willing to question his tale.

"I expect you all to treat her well," he said, his tone turning low and foreboding. "Protect her as if she were one of your own."

The warning in his voice earned wary glances between villagers, and Nami could feel the tension rise for a moment before they all raised their cups and horns to acknowledge him. Kid's grip loosened at her back, and she turned to see him grinning as he raised his own cup high.

"Now let's get on with the feast and welcome her to my hall," he bellowed, sending the celebration underway with a chorus of cheers and shouts in answer.

With everyone sinking into their meals and cups, Kid threw himself back into his seat and tugged her down into the chair at his left. She glowered at him for a moment, but shook off her annoyance in favor of accepting a cup of ale from one of the servants. Kid had already emptied his and was holding it out to be refilled, his grin vanished with his stern and thoughtful frown.

She leaned over the arm of his chair. "Jarl Ingvar?" she asked at a hush when the servant skittered away to take care of the others.

Kid grunted as he leaned toward her, taking a generous swallow of his drink. "I'd rather they not hear of any other story of who you are. If rumors too similar to those of your clan spread, it'll only lead your usurper here quicker."

"While I agree with that, what will come when this Ingvar hears you claiming to house one of his children?" she asked at a hiss.

He chuckled and shifted to drape an arm around the back of her chair, coming close enough to whisper in her ear. "There would have to be a Jarl Ingvar to begin with for me to worry about that. As far as I know, no such man exists, at least not along the western coast. There's enough men calling themselves Jarls and Kings these days that most of the villagers don't bother to remember them all."

That was certainly true enough, and the lie wasn't a bad one. It was far better than continuing to spread the tale of the svear clan from the billows. She was still held at a high enough status to be protected, and it provided adequate reason for Kid to house her there, but it wasn't so significant to garner more attention from other lands.

Though there _was_ a significance that she didn't believe Kid had considered. She could only hope none of the others picked up on the reasons a man would send his daughter to live with another Jarl.

Kid pulled away as villagers began to wander toward their table, and she forgot the conversation amid the flurry of introductions and warm welcomes.

She granted Kid's wish to see her smile as she allowed herself to sink into the festive spirit of the evening. She had no reason to frown or cry that night. She was safe for the time being, and it had been so long since she saw so many happy faces. While her heart ached for the people she left behind, she had to believe that this was for the best. She had to keep smiling, keep moving forward.

And keep herself from getting too attached to anyone.

Nami spent the night playing the part of happy guest. After eating, she roamed the room, chatted with the women about their daily lives, learned the gossip and inside knowledge only a native to the village would know. Some of Kid's men were married and lived in homes away from the hall, and Nami made sure to spend extra time talking to them to keep up appearances. She smiled and laughed and drank. She challenged some of Kid's men to a game of Hnefatafl, and managed to swindle them out of a few pieces of silver until she caught Kid scowling at her over the shoulder of her last victim.

He managed to win half of what she made after challenging her to the next round of games and beating her soundly. The game had been the most difficult thus far, and garnered a crowd of spectators, a few of which willingly cheered for her despite Kid's annoyed growls anytime she gained an advantage. After her king was captured a second time, she surrendered defeat, if only to keep what she had already won.

She might need that silver, after all.

Kid openly gloated for the rest of the night. His good mood drove him to drink with his men even more than he already had. She pretended to sulk at her table and continued to sip at the same cup of ale while watching Kid join the boisterous songs that came later in the night. She bit her cheek when she found herself smiling genuinely at the sight of him perched on a table, an arm slung around Killer's shoulder as he encouraged some of the drunker men to grab a woman and dance.

She let out an honest laugh when a few of those men were immediately slapped after grabbing the wrong woman. And then the night was nearly lost when a husband tackled one of those men, apparently unsatisfied with the slap his wife doled out as punishment. The brawl was shortened when Nami helped the other women grab buckets of water and douse the inebriated men, literally cooling their tempers with chilly water straight from the fjord.

As the soberer guests made their way home late in the night, and the heavily inebriated ones took to sleeping at their tables or on the floor, Nami quietly kept to her table, pretending to finish off one more cup. Her chin was propped on her hand and she let her eyes fall shut. She was tired and could easily doze off there, but she had to remain clearheaded. She barely stirred when she heard a slumping, off-kilter gait approaching the table. She pried open an eye when the raised platform shook and saw Kid slouch into his chair at her side, groaning as he laid his head on the table. His hair had long ago fallen from its knot, and the wavy strands hung free to partially conceal his eyes, but she could just make out his hazy, distant gaze between lazily blinks.

"Drink too much?" she asked as she shut her eye again.

Kid grunted. "I still got some wits left."

She listened to him move until she felt his hand pat hard on her back. She didn't bat away his overly friendly touch, merely growled under her breath at him. The hand remained on her back, but she suspected he was too drunk to move again.

"How you holding up?" he asked. "I'm pretty certain you out-drank at least half of my men."

"Only half?" she asked with a giggle. "I must be out of practice."

Kid snorted and the weight of his hand grew heavier. She peered over at him to see his eyes shut and mouth hanging open, his other arm curled beneath his head as a pillow. She stifled a giggle at the sight of him falling asleep so easily, but he still heard the faint snicker that slipped out and jolted awake with another snort.

"I think you should go to bed," she suggested.

He hummed, pulling his hand away to rub his tired face.

"You go to bed, too," he grumbled as he dragged himself out of his chair. He swatted at the arm propping her up until it knocked her chin free of its perch. She shot him a glare, but he ignored it as he tugged her out of her seat. "Come on," he growled, hauling her to her feet.

She didn't struggle as much as she could have. He was sluggish enough she probably would have been able to shake him off, but she let him drape his arm around her shoulders, sinking most of his weight onto her, and drag her off to their rooms in the back.

"You're going to give people the wrong idea," she muttered as he leaned into her and cocked his head to rest on hers.

He muttered an incoherent reply.

She had to stop halfway to their rooms to wrap an arm around his back so she could bear his weight. She could probably drop him in the hall and let him sleep there, but she decided it was best if she get him into his own bed. If he woke up later, or one of his men found him there, he might take notice of her plans sooner than she'd like.

At his room, she let him fall into bed and let out a long sigh of relief when he proceeded to snore loudly. He was face down, and his legs were hanging over the side, but there was no way she was putting in the effort to make him more comfortable. He was lucky she got him that far.

Back in her room, she sat on her bed, listening to him snore on for a short while before she was certain he wouldn't rouse any time soon. She grabbed her cloak, tucked her axe in her belt, and checked that her small knife was hidden in her purse, along with the pieces of silver she won earlier. She stopped to listen for Kid's snoring one last time, and when she heard the deep rattling breath, she crept over the furs on her floor until she reached the escape hatch in the back wall.

She was grateful he had thought to add that to her room, and not just because she wanted to escape from his hall that night while she had the chance. If she had decided to stay, and not try to prevent Kid's gruesome death, the hatch would have been one more feature to let her feel safe in his hall, just in case Arlong or one of his allies happened upon Drafn.

For now, though, she was going to put it to use and slip out in the middle of the night while her would be protector slept in his drunken stupor.

She twisted the peg locking the door in place and took care in letting the door drop open as quietly as possible. A hinge squeaked despite her effort, and she held her breath while listening to Kid snort. She heard him shift in his bed with a loud groan, and then he was snoring again. She sighed in relief and eased her head outside to take a peek around.

She saw no one to left. The right was clear. She even swept her gaze beneath the hatch to check for any of the revelers from the party who might have fallen asleep out there. Even the trees up ahead showed no signs of life as they swayed in the breeze.

She began to ease herself out on her stomach, carefully holding to the edge of the hole to keep herself steady. There were only a few feet between her and the ground, but if she fell, she might alert a guard with the noise.

Breath held again, she was halfway out when she heard a foot crunch to her right. She froze and snapped her gaze to the corner of the house and the figure that hadn't been there when she first looked. Despair sank into her gut when she saw Killer leaning against the side of the house, his long blond hair easily giving him away in the dark. He looked calm and relaxed as he rested his hand on the hilt of his curved seax, his head tilted back as if he was just taking in the stars.

She let out her breath in a quiet whimper.

"Is everything alright, Lady Nami?" he asked, his tone overly polite. He didn't look directly at her, but she could still feel his gaze on her.

She forced a smile. "I was just feeling a little dizzy from all the ale. I wanted a bit of fresh air, but didn't want to disturb the others sleeping out in the hall."

Killer hummed as he turned to approach her. "If you wish, I'd be happy to accompany you for an evening stroll," he said, and she caught the faintest curve of a smirk in the dim light provided by a waning moon.

Nami gave him a sweet, feminine giggle, feigning a sigh demureness. "That's kind of you, but I think I'll be alright on my own."

He hummed again as he stood in front of her. He didn't say anything, but considering he hadn't turned away, and the stiffness of his posture, she knew he wasn't about to leave her to herself.

She sighed heavily. "Kid ordered you to guard the hatch out of my room in case I tried to leave. Didn't he?"

He coupled his nod with a grunt, and she sighed again.

"Stubborn, perceptive bastard," she muttered under her breath, and then froze when she felt the floorboards beneath her shake with heavy steps.

"What did you just call me?" Kid's deep voice echoed from behind her. He didn't sound drunk or exhausted in the least. Had he been feigning his inebriation? Just like she was?

 _Bastard_ , she hissed to herself again.

She shrieked when she felt him grip her by the ankle and slide her back into the room. Flipping to her back, she kicked and flailed as he dragged her toward the bed.

"Unhand me, you brute!" she cried out, grabbing the furs littered over the floor in a futile attempt to stop.

He grunted and released her. She didn't have a chance to relax or even think to make another escape before he was straddling her stomach, weighing her down with ease. She lashed out, nails intent on scratching him wherever she could reach, but he grappled for her wrists and won out with his larger, stronger hands.

"Get off of me!" she screamed. Maybe if she yelled loud enough, someone would come investigate, though she didn't know if anyone would stop Kid. He was in charge. He was the Jarl. He had every advantage that she didn't. Her struggles lost their intensity as she swallowed a sob. "Bastard," she insulted again, her voice cracking with her strained emotion. "Just let me go."

"No," he grunted, and that was when she noticed the rope he was winding around her wrists.

"You're actually tying me up?" she shrieked.

"You left me no choice," he muttered.

"You could have just let me leave like I wished!"

"No," he repeated. "You'll just get yourself killed, and I don't want that weighing on my conscience."

"As if you even have a conscience," she muttered, turning her head to the side as she fell limp, submitting to him.

He stilled for a moment, but quickly returned to his task as he knotted the rope tight.

Once he felt she was secure, he slipped her axe from her belt, along with her purse, and unfastened her cloak. He then picked himself up and hauled her with him before tossing her onto the bed in the corner. She immediately tried to get up, stubbornly refusing to give up too easily, but Kid's arm caught her by the waist and he shoved her back into the furs and wool blankets.

"I'll tie your legs, too, woman," he threatened gruffly.

She growled up at him as he hovered over her with a dark glare. He stood straight, his arms crossed over his chest, and stared her down until she slumped into her pillows.

"I hate you," she mumbled.

"I don't care," he shot back, and then caught her by surprise as he kneeled on her bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked frantically, kicking at the large man as he maneuvered so that he could sit with his back against the wall on the other side of the bed, and draped his legs over her, pinning her down. "Get out of my bed!"

"No," he grunted, settling in as he crossed his arms over his chest once more and leaned his head back against the wall. "Now go to sleep."

"I can't sleep like this!"

"Not my problem. You should have thought of that before trying to sneak off."

She tried to kick his legs off while grumbling a string of profane curses, all directed at him. Kid didn't budge, and the quiet snort he gave said he heard the colorful language she used.

"I won't run again, Kid," she whined. "You don't have to stay in here… _And_ you can untie me."

"Not going to risk it," he said. "Just shut up and go to sleep."

She slammed her head into her pillows with an exaggerated groan. "At least untie me." She held her hands up when she noticed him staring at her from the corner of a single open eye. "Please," she whimpered. "They're too tight."

Kid's jaw ticked with irritation, but after a bit of thought, he let out a sigh and took out the small knife he still had in his belt to cut the rope away.

"Thank you," she huffed while rubbing her sore wrists. The skin was chafed and red, and she had no doubt that she'd have bruises the next day. He didn't have to be so rough.

Kid grunted and sank back against the wall, still stubbornly insistent on staying as a bedside guard. Or more like an in-bed guard.

"You're going to give a lot of people the wrong impression," she grumbled.

"Huh?" He pried open an eye again to glare in confusion.

"Your lie about why I'm here is sure to get plenty of people talking. Usually there's only one reason a man would send his only daughter to live with a single, unmarried man of high standing. And now you're trying to share my bed. If someone came in here to find you like this, everyone will make assumptions about us," she explained.

Kid shrugged and shut his eye. "So? Let them assume whatever they want. Better than having rumor get out that you're from a clan of seers that's supposed to be long dead, and that you're hiding from a Jarl who thinks himself a giant and son of Aegir."

"But…"

"I said, let them talk. I don't have any problem with them thinking I'm trying to bed you or whatever they come up with."

"You might not, but I certainly do," she hissed.

He wore a tight lipped frown as his brows furrowed. After a minute, he sighed and shuffled further down on the wall, crossed his legs, and let his feet hang off the bed on the other side, pointedly making himself more comfortable.

"Still better than the alternative, in my opinion."

"You're just being stubborn," she huffed.

"Might be, but it's too late to change the story."

"But we can at least keep people from getting any sort of fodder to encourage their gossip," she pointed out with a sharp smack to his leg. "Get out of my bed."

"If I leave, you'll just run."

"I won't run," she sighed.

"You said that before."

"I mean it this time."

"Don't believe you," he grunted. "Just go to sleep, woman."

"I can't," she groaned.

Kid hummed in thought. "I can try to think up a good bedtime story if it'll help."

She shot him a glare only to find him staring at her again, his lips curved up in a teasing smirk.

"Stubborn ass," she hissed.

"That a _yes_ to the story, or…?"

She sighed and did her best to get comfortable as she turned her back to him. "I give up."

"Smart woman," he chuckled. "Though you could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you had just gone to bed like you were supposed to. And if you think about pulling this stunt again, I'll tear the drapes down and you can share the whole room with me. That'll have everyone talking."

She growled, but had no quick argument against that threat. In fact, it was better than being tied down to the bed, even if she would lose the semblance of privacy he had given her.

"Or I could just tie you up again," he said with another quiet chuckle.

She let out another low growl as she awkwardly pulled her blankets over her, thinking to use them as a meager barrier between them. His legs made the task of getting comfortable that much harder, but she knew he wouldn't move them again, no matter how much she argued. He was set on keeping her there for the rest of the night.

"I really hate you," she whispered quietly.

Kid didn't respond at first and the room fell into a heavy silence. She thought he had dozed off, but then she felt him shift as he yanked an extra fur blanket off the bench at the end of the bed and draped it over his legs.

"You don't mean that," he finally said. "If you did, you wouldn't care one whit what happened to me."

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to refute him. She wished she could hate him, though. But he was making it too hard to even remain indifferent.

She felt him lean over her to blow out the small candles still flickering beside her bed, and then he settled back into his spot for the night.

She could hear the breeze rustling the trees outside, the wind carrying in through the open hatch to flutter against the tapestry. She swore she heard the faint crunch of Killer's shoes in the dirt as he continued to guard her room, even knowing his Jarl had secured her in bed. The night was peaceful, otherwise, and she knew she was safe and secure in that hall with Kid and his men watching over her.

A pack of wolves ready to bare their ferocious, hungry teeth at the first threat to appear before her.

As she listened to Kid's breathing slowly even out, she wondered if it was possible. If her ancestor's prophecy had been true.

Could she change what has already been woven? Could she truly alter the fate she had already foreseen?

For the sake of the man sleeping beside her, she prayed that she could.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So my only note on this chapter is about the title. You'll notice I make a lot of references to weaving, both in the stories and titles, and that's because weaving was a major aspect in Old Norse society according to the sagas, and is connected to magic (such as the Norns/ Fates who weave a person's destiny). Obviously thread throughout cultures has a lot of symbolism in terms of fate (red string), and this culture was no different. With the title, a selvedge (or selvage) is the edge produced on either side of the fabric to prevent unraveling/fraying._

 _I thought it fitting for the title of this chapter since it was heavily focused on building an early bond and friendship between Kid and Nami, in essence producing the initial selvedge to the fate their weaving. I am trying to be poetic and symbolic in my chapter titles._

 _Also, everyone enjoying this fic can now thank Eileithyia-ya for turning me onto the band Amorphis. Honestly, you would think I had been listening to them long before I started this fic, but nope, didn't know about them until a few weeks ago. The tone and imagery of their songs fit freakishly well with this fic. Also I bet Kid would be a mega-huge fan. Lyrics and style suit him perfectly. So everyone go listen to them. I personally like 'Sacrifice' and 'Come the Spring', which Eileithyia pointed to first, as well as 'Silver Bride' and 'Course of Fate' in terms of fitting generally to the tone, imagery, and emotions of this fic. I didn't have a chance to add them to my 8tracks playlist before I made it, though. Sadly. But they fit well with the other music I'm listening to for this story._

 _And I should probably mention here, in case some of you missed my posted on tumblr, my updates might be coming slower for a while. My neck and shoulders have been causing me more problems lately, and it hurts a lot to sit at my computer for extended periods of time. Between that and my job as a dental assistant, my upper back and neck are totally fucked. I also got off my usual schedule for massage therapy sessions, but my boss paid for two sessions, so I'm getting back on track with it now. But, in the meantime, I'm going to be doing my best to avoid stressing my muscles out. They're feeling a little better after my last massage, but still need to go back in in a few weeks to loosen the last knots he couldn't get. I can feel them tightening up and aching the longer I sit at a computer or with a patient, so I really am trying to avoid ruining all the work he put into my back and leaving myself in massive amounts of pain. I usually do a lot of my writing on the weekend if I'm motivated enough, but I'm going to start taking weekends off as much as possible to let my muscles relax. That means I'll only be squeezing writing time in during the work week, which can be more sporadic because focusing my attention is a lot harder when I write at the office during down time, and I lack a lot of motivation when I get done. I'll do my best to keep my schedule as regular as possible (at least for my KidNa fics since I still have a block for everything else), but I'm not going to push myself as much as I normally do._

 _Anyway, your reviews are very much appreciated! Glad you guys are enjoying this fic._


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Beguiling_

Nami woke to the sound of crows cawing outside, loud and obnoxious in that pre-dawn twilight when the sun had hardly become a hint upon the horizon. She could hear the early morning breeze rustle the tapestry on her wall. The wood frame at the top and bottom of the tall piece clattered restlessly, just as annoying as the crows.

She groaned and rolled away from the noise, intent on burrowing in her blankets and furs and going back to sleep for a little while longer. She nestled into a spot warmer than the rest, her sleepy mind thinking it was a mound of blankets and pillows she had curled against. And then she heard a groan that wasn't her own, hoarse and undoubtedly masculine, before a weight settled over her shoulders and another draped over her legs. She stifled a shriek as she pulled back from the person in her bed, but found herself immediately drawn back into the encompassing warmth as he growled softly at her movement.

She screamed.

"What the…?" Kid groggily began to ask. His confusion was answered with a sharp smack to his head, forcing him to pull his arm from around her shoulders to defend against the next strike she tried to level on him. "Ow!" he hollered when she hit him again. "Stop that, woman!"

"Get out of my bed!" she shouted, this time kicking at his legs and stomach while she scrambled back, out from underneath the leg he had draped over her.

Kid grunted and curled in when she struck his stomach hard with the heel of her foot, clutching his gut as he sucked in a breath. Her attempt at gaining distance ended when she fell to the floor with a loud shriek.

"Are you done?" Kid grunted, peering over the edge of the bed as she laid sprawled out in a tangle of skirts and blankets and furs. "It's too damn early for hysterics."

"Get out of my bed," she snapped again, reaching for a pillow that had fallen with her to toss at his head.

Kid caught it and curled around it with a grin as he pointedly made himself comfortable.

"No way," he said. "I was sleeping better than I ever do until your screaming woke me. I might think about guarding you like this from now on."

She growled. He had better be kidding. If he wasn't, she was going to bed with a knife in her hand to deter him from joining her again.

"Don't glare at me like that. You look like you're planning to gut me like a fish."

"I am," she said flatly.

Kid snorted and rolled to his back, stretching out in bed for a moment. Once he settled, he grabbed the blankets still on the bed, pulled them up, and turned his back to her.

"Don't go back to sleep, you idiot!"

He groaned and pulled the blankets up higher. "Too early to be up. Just come back to bed, Nami."

"I am not sharing my bed with you!"

"Too late," he chuckled.

She sighed loudly in exasperation, pushed off the floor, and grabbed an extra pillow to smack him with. He merely snatched it from her grasp to add to the ones he was hoarding, and curled beneath the covers again. She was dangerously close to strangling him.

With another frustrated shout, she spun away from the bed and stormed to the curtain hanging in the door.

"Oi, where are you going?" Kid grumbled as he watched her over his shoulder.

"I'm too annoyed with you to sleep anymore, so I might as well get ready for the day," she snapped.

He spared a short grunt and then burrowed back in her blankets. She threw her arms up in defeat seeing that he wasn't getting out of her bed any time soon, and left him to sleep. She stomped out to the main room to find most of his men awake, albeit very unhappy with the fact as they frowned at her.

"Don't blame me," she shouted as she turned for the hall to the outhouse. " _Your_ Jarl is the inconsiderate ass."

The men all chuckled tiredly at her as she ran off, unwilling to deny her accusation. She barely stepped one foot out of the hall before Killer fell in pace beside her, and she found she wanted to strangle him, too. He didn't react with so much as a flinch to her angry glare as he silently followed her.

"I don't need a guardian to relieve myself," she growled once she reached the privy and slammed the door shut in his face. "Do me a favor and drag that stubborn man out of my bed if you want something to do!"

He merely snorted before she heard him settle in to stand guard beside the door. Apparently there was no chance of being left alone, not until Kid was certain she wouldn't make another attempt at running. If she had to wake up another morning to find him in her bed, though, she was definitely going to wring his neck.

* * *

Dawn came and went before Kid dragged himself out of her bed. He came ambling out to the main room in his rumpled tunic and trousers, yawning wide as he scratched his scalp. He didn't pay any mind to Nami's surly look, and she huffed when he took a seat at the table beside her without a word. Not even a half-hearted apology for intruding on her bed the night before.

She was nearly done with her meal while he took the washing bowl a servant brought to splash his face and clean his hands before turning to the plate they brought him, loaded with strips of pork, eggs, and a good helping of oat porridge. While Kid had slept in, most of the hall had been alive with activity since dawn. The servants were kindling the fire and making the morning meal, the men who slept in the main room tucked away their beds, and when they were done, they headed out to see to the horses and make a pass around the village and docks to see that everything was in order. Even Nami had set to work helping with breakfast. But apparently Kid did not rise with everyone else, and refused to begin his day before eating like the rest of them.

She wished she could have that luxury.

Fortunately Kid was a fast eater, so no one had to wait on him to finish his meal before they could clean up. She helped the servants and thralls clear the tables while the men headed out to work. She heard that a few were riding out to the farms to check on the families leasing the land from Kid, as well as see to the other land owners in the area. Most of the other men were splitting up between the docks and Kid's shipyard as they prepared their fleet for the summer's voyages.

Nami didn't know how much time she had to finish the task Kid had given her, but she felt it best not to waste too much time if he meant to go raiding. She snagged one of the female servants, a middle age woman named Gunda who looked like she could stand toe to toe against some of the men in battle, and tasked her to help collect the materials she needed to make the new heraldry flags. With only a few women working in a household with so many men, fabric and sewing materials were in short supply. Two Saxon thralls were already busy mending the men's clothes, and the other servants had plenty to keep themselves busy. Nami needed to make some new dresses for herself, too, so it would be to her advantage to barter with some of the village women for the supplies.

"Where are you heading off to?" Kid asked when he noticed her clasping her cloak on the way to the main door.

Nami spared him a short glance and didn't bother to stop as she passed him, the servant following behind with her head bowed to avoid Kid's sharp gaze. "I need more supplies for your flags, and while I'm at it, I intend to make some more clothes for myself. Don't worry, I'll use the silver I won last night," she called over her shoulder as she waved back at him.

"Wait," he hollered, "you're not going alone."

She paused to glower at him and pointed at the tall woman beside her. "I'm not."

Kid ignored her as he grabbed one of his men and shoved him toward the door. "Axel, go with her," he ordered the man. "Don't let her out of your sight."

She huffed. "I'm not planning to run away again," she said while eyeing the man who approached her. He was one of the smaller men in Kid's circle of brethren, the top of her head reaching his chin. He was of an age with Kid, early twenties at most. A strip of sandy colored hair was braided atop an otherwise shaved head, leaving his grey-blue eyes stunningly visible. Beneath a loose wool tunic and brown trousers, he had a stocky build but she didn't doubt how adept a warrior he was - the two axes he bore on his hip were well worn from battle. She knew he was one of the friendlier men, too; quiet and unimposing during much of the feast the night before. He sat with his friends and laughed to himself at the raucous behavior of his Jarl and the others. "You don't need to have one of your men follow me everywhere."

"It's not about you running off," Kid grunted.

"Are you worried one of the villagers might harm me?" she asked warily. "Everyone seemed friendly enough yesterday, and Gunda looks like she's more than capable of offering me some protection." She gestured to the woman who was standing a little straighter. Her long, ash brown hair was held back in a tight bun decorated with braids, and she was dressed in plain brown wool, the same as the other servants, but beneath the dress Nami recognized the form of a shieldmaiden, built with lean muscle and deceptive strength. The pride she was showing at Nami's assessment told her that she was right; the woman was a warrior just like the men. "I'll be fine."

"No one here will hurt you, but I'm not about to risk you being off alone in case anyone shows up looking for you. You'll have a guard on you at all times. If anything happens, the woman will stay with you while you escape, and my men will take up the first line of defense should you need it."

She rolled her eyes. "You're being needlessly paranoid now."

"Just take Axel with you," Kid said with a tone that brooked no argument. She pursed her lips in annoyance as the Jarl came toward her, but the feeling was lost as he untied the small leather pouch hanging from his belt. He tossed it at her, and her eyes lit up at the sound of silver and gold jingling together. "Get whatever you need with that. Save your silver in case you _do_ need to run."

She grinned brightly and spun on her heel to skip out of the hall, waving the pouch over her shoulder. "Whatever you think is best, Jarl Kid," she chirped happily.

She heard a loud bark of laughter follow after her from the hall. "That's all it took to make you agreeable, woman?" he called after her, amusement lacing his tone.

She turned to walk backwards, grin never wavering as she spied him leaning in the door. "For now. But I'm of a mind to fine you for this morning, so you might want to find more gold if you want to keep me this agreeable."

His hearty laugh echoed off the shacks and houses of the village, and Nami found she wasn't as irritated with him as she had been. Gold went a long way in earning her forgiveness. Kid would do well to remember that.

* * *

As they wandered the village, Nami stuck close to Gunda while Axel stayed a few paces behind them. While Gunda was more willing to chat as they walked, her guard for the day seemed to be taking his task too seriously to spare more than the odd response to a question she might call back to him. For a man who was walking through a friendly village, he appeared ready to battle anyone who didn't look right. His back was straight, a hand rested on the axes in his belt, and his gaze swept over every person they passed.

"I doubt we need worry about anyone attacking me here," she said over her shoulder. "You don't have to act like a soldier."

He glowered at her. "If Jarl Kid orders me to protect you, then that is what I'll do."

Nami decided it was best to ignore him after that. Let him follow his orders.

She slipped an arm through Gunda's as she slowed to a more casual pace, wandering between rickety carts and tables gathered along a main road. They stopped at a cart brimming with rolls of wool thread and piles of linen.

"I didn't see a loom in Kid's hall," she remarked while fingering a length of red stained thread.

"There is an old one in the servant's quarters," Gunda said. "You may use it any time you wish."

Nami hummed in thought. The servants likely needed it to weave more fabric for daily use and mending. As much as Kid wanted these new flags, it shouldn't take precedence over other chores.

She turned back to Axel. "I heard talk of an upcoming voyage. What do you know of it?"

"Jarl Kid intends to sail to the northwest coast to trade with another Jarl. We have more oak here that they need for their ships," he answered.

"How many ships does he intend to take?"

"Possibly only two knarrs to transport the timber, and four longships that will sail southwest after the trade to pay the Saxons a visit."

"How soon is that voyage?"

"He had planned to set out in a month, but your arrival might have delayed those plans."

Nami nodded to herself. That wasn't much time, and she didn't want to see him delay his plans because of her. He had to think of his village first.

"That only gives me a few weeks to make a dozen new flags," she mused. "I might have to borrow your loom and extra hands from the other servants."

"He's already set a number of the thralls to mend his sails and make new ones for the ship he's building," Axel interjected. "Those take precedence."

Nami hissed in annoyance. That much was true. "I need my own loom," she decided, spinning to glower at the village around them. "Is there a craftsman who can make one quickly?"

"I think Torvald has one he's nearly finished piecing together," one of the thread sellers chimed in. "If it's for Jarl Kid, he would gladly sell it to you."

"That would be perfect," Nami said, turning to bat her eyes at Axel. "Can you do me a favor?" Her guard's brow rose, but she wouldn't be deterred. "I need you to find this Torvald for me and ask about the loom while Gunda and I gather the thread and cloth we need." Axel frowned and crossed his arms, stubbornly refusing, so she came closer and wound her arms through his. His expression turned guarded. "The faster we gather what we need, the sooner I'll be back in the safety of Kid's hall. I'm sure that would please your Jarl." She squeezed his arm and gave him her most charming smile. "And it would please me, too. All this walking is sure to make me weary very soon. I'm still recovering from my injuries." He still looked skeptical, but there was uncertainty in his eyes as he glanced down the street in the direction she guessed this craftsman lived, so she pressed on. "Jarl Kid would be more displeased if he heard I exhausted myself with this trip around the village. But, of course, he's trusted you with my safety and well-being, and I'm sure you know what's best."

Her guard groaned and looked back down at her. She pressed her body as close to his as she could, traced a finger over his chest, and stuck her lip out in a pleading pout.

"Please," she said quietly. "I would truly appreciate it, _Axel_."

His back straightened and he turned away to hide the faint blush creeping over his cheeks.

"You stay with Gunda," he decided. "And don't venture far from here. I won't be long."

"Thank you," she chirped joyously as she hugged him for good measure. His blush grew pinker when she released him. "I promise I'll stay with Gunda. We'll be waiting right here for you to come back."

Clearing his throat, Axel nodded and stiffly spun away from her to head off on the errand she gave him. She waved at his back until she was sure he was out of earshot, and then turned to the women with an exaggerated sigh.

"Finally," she said, leaning against the cart of wares. "Kid and his men are starting to make me feel more like a prisoner than a guest."

"They mean well," Gunda attempted to argue, but pursed her lips at Nami's withering glare.

"Killer followed me to the privy this morning!" she yelled. She felt it best not to share who she woke up to that morning, though she wished she could tear into that subject and vent about the infuriating Jarl. She might do just that later, when the Jarl was present to hear it. "I'm almost afraid for the next time I need to bathe. Kid might insist on sending a whole army in with me."

"I doubt he would go so far," Gunda once more tried reassure.

Nami sent her a doubtful look.

"I'm certain you could convince him that you would be fine bathing alone," the servant said, though she sounded far from convinced herself. "You could bathe with me and the other women. He might be appeased knowing you aren't alone."

"He'll still post a guard," Nami said with a long sigh. "But, it might be enough to lend me a modicum of privacy." And if that didn't work, she'd just levy him with a number of fines. She was definitely going to fine him for sharing her bed. At least that way she would be richly compensated for the headache.

Which reminded her… "Enough about that oaf," she declared, pulling out the small pouch Kid had given her. "Let's see how much of this I can spend today."

By the time Axel had returned to say that the craftsman would bring her new loom to the hall in two days, Nami had bought more than enough thread to make cloth for the flags, as well as the dresses she needed. She picked out an array of colors – blue, green, gold, and red – and also bought a few lengths of cloth the women had already woven so that she might begin on a new dress sooner. She even bought up all the linen they had on hand, and they promised to have more woven in the next week if she needed it. She bought a variety of finer threads in even more colors for her stitching and decorative weaving, likely more than she would need, but it was Kid's coin she was spending. She also found a new sewing kit and a set of tablets for weaving her trim.

She barely emptied even half of the purse of its silver and hadn't touched a single piece of gold. That could go to paying for the loom, and the rest she would convince Kid to let her keep as recompense for sleeping in her quarters. It could even go toward purchasing a distaff and set of whorls to spin her own thread. Considering the land Kid controlled, he surely could bring in unspun wool of his own, saving them all the cost of purchasing from the villagers. It would be more time consuming, but once she had a good set of her own garments, and had settled in better, it would at least be another chore to keep her busy.

Once Axel had returned, she and Gunda piled their newly bought wares into his arms before he even had a chance to refuse. He could barely see over all of it, but didn't argue as he followed after them, even when Nami stopped to talk to any of the villagers that greeted her. The only complaint he leveled on the task was a drawn out sigh of relief when they finally made it back to Kid's hall and he could drop the load on the first table he ran in to.

Two more of Kid's men were there, likely meant to stand guard when she returned, and they eyed their brother and the mountain of yarn and fabric with traces of amusement in their smiles. They wouldn't be escaping Axel's fate of helping her, though. If Kid was going to leave these men around to watch her all day, then she was going to put them to more use.

"Gentlemen," she greeted with a sweet smile. "I could really use a favor…"

They watched Axel slump down on a bench while Gunda fetched him a cup of much needed ale. The two other guards shared a wary look. They glanced back at her as she leaned over their table, smile growing brighter.

"Please."

* * *

Work in the shipyard began to steadily slow late in the afternoon when Kid called for an end to their day. While most of his men began to clean up, he finished hammering in rivets along the hull, securing the last few strakes, while Wire helped cut and blunt them down. The new drekkar was nearly done. They would set to work on securing the gunwale and the last pieces of inner frame the next day, and then within the week they should be able to treat the wood to ready it for the water.

Kid found peace when he was at work. Building and battle were the two things he was most familiar with, and when he couldn't go to war, he found solace in his ships. Carving and smoothing each plank and rib allowed him to lose himself for hours, his mind so wholly focused on every task that he forgot everything outside of the ship that never failed to instill fear in his enemies. Where women had their weaving, a man could work his own form of magic with an axe and hammer to create something magnificent.

As he worked with his men that day, Killer had been charged with overseeing the men at the docks as they readied the ships there for their next voyage. Since he was near the hall, he was also expected to check in on Nami and the guards he left for her, and report to him with any problems. He hadn't seen the man all day, so he assumed that meant all was well, but when he spied the blond climbing through the trees along the riverbank, he knew the woman was up to something.

"She try to run again?" he asked mid-hammer strike once Killer was nearby.

"No, she's been well behaved in that regard," Killer answered as he came to inspect the newest addition to the ship's hull.

Kid glanced at his friend uneasily as Killer leaned against a brace. "Then what did she do?"

"She's settling into the hall, and seems to be getting along well with the men."

"And that's a problem how?" he asked with a brow raised. He stopped working altogether to give Killer his full attention, glowering at the flat expression the man wore. "If she's remaining with us, we want her to get along with everyone and feel comfortable in my hall."

Killer hummed in agreement. "I still thought it best to warn you before you got back to the house."

Kid sent him another wary and confused look before turning back to the last two rivets. "You're being needlessly cryptic," he said as he struck at the iron.

Killer shrugged as he moved off to wait for him. Kid tried to shake off the sense of foreboding that came with Killer's veiled warning. So Nami was settling in? That was a good thing. That meant she was accepting her fate, that she would remain with them. She was befriending his men, the people who have sworn to protect her. That meant she trusted them, and the more she trusted her guardians, the more willing she would be to listen to them. Whatever Killer thought he had to worry over, Kid couldn't see it.

With the last rivets in place and the other men beginning to trickle off toward the village, Kid called it a day on his own work. After setting aside his tools, he went to the riverbank to splash a handful of water over his face, cleaning off the sweat and splinters of wood covering him. He took out the tail in his hair to run damp fingers through it and tame the errant locks that had come free, the shorter red strands curling outward along his hairline. Once his hair was retied, he turned to Killer and gestured that they head off to the hall.

His friend was silent as they followed the path leading east along the river, toward the mouth spilling into the fjord his village was built on. Wire trailed along after them, and Kid glanced over his shoulder to share a questioning look with the other man. It wasn't abnormal for Killer to be quiet, but his silence this time made him feel as though he were about to walk into a trap.

At the village, nothing appeared out of place. The people were going about their usual business, preparing their nightly meals, cleaning up their yards, or wrangling their children in to help with the evening chores. When they reached the main square outside his hall, he could hear laughter spilling from the doors and once again wondered why it was wrong for Nami to be getting along with everyone.

He hopped onto the porch ahead of Killer, and froze in the door as he found his answer.

Nami stood in the center of the main room, perched on a stool with swaths of yellow-gold fabric draped over her. Gunda was at her side, pinning the pieces in place for a new apron dress. Both women were laughing as one of the guards he left sat on a table and plucked out some bawdy song on a lyre. He was surrounded by more fabric and string, the makings of another dress, this time in a blue lighter than the one she had been wearing since he found her. His other guard was dancing around the women, further entertaining them as he pretended to flirt. And then there was Axel, pouring Nami a horn of ale and grinning at the thankful smile she gave him.

Needless to say, Kid was confused.

He wanted her to get along with them, but the scene before him wasn't what he had in mind. Friendly conversation and banter was one thing. Maybe even lending a helping hand with the chores. But what he was seeing were three of his best warriors playing jesters and servants to a Lady of another land's noble court.

He looked back at Killer who merely shrugged and gave a pointed look that said "I warned you," and then turned back to his hall.

He finally bothered to take in the rest of the room. The tables had been moved, along with the raised platform with his throne. A space stood empty near the back corner where a heavy oak chest had once been. The changed layout only further confused him.

"What's going on here?" he finally bothered to ask as he took a tentative step over the threshold, afraid he was about to enter into another realm.

"Welcome home, Jarl Kid," Nami greeted far too politely.

He eyed her skeptically and strode closer. Unlike the previous days when he would come upon her in a cheerful mood, her vibrant smile never broke. The firelight glowing from the center hearth only seemed to make her brighter as the braids and subtle curls in her amber hair shone in the light. It looked as though she had combed it recently, and the braids curling around from her temples to tie in the back hadn't been there when she left that morning, which meant she had spent part of her day on her hair.

She looked genuinely happy and content.

"What are you up to?" he asked, realizing she hadn't bothered to answer his first question.

Finally, her smile fell away, but her good humor was far from lost as she huffed, her cheeks swelling with a sweet, albeit exaggerated, pout. The look only made him more suspicious.

"I'm making a new dress," she answered with that huffy tone.

"I can see that," he said, gesturing toward the table and the clutter of her work. "Why are my men playing servants for you?"

She beamed again. "Your men are such sweet gentlemen," she cooed, turning that playful smile onto Finn, her dancing jester who had finally stopped dancing once Kid spoke. The younger man still leaned toward the woman, happily soaking in her charms. "Axel was a help in the village earlier," Nami continued, her attention back on him. "He found a man who was nearly done building a loom for me to buy, and when we returned, he was kind enough to carry everything Gunda and I bought. Of course, we needed space for the new loom…"

"I got one in the servants' quarters," Kid finally interrupted, glowering at the empty space he could now assume was meant for her loom.

Nami waved him off. "As Axel informed me, you have your servants set to make new sails. I won't interfere with that work just for your heraldry. The sails are more important, but it will be easier and less costly if I weave the fabric myself. It'll also give me more to do in the future."

Kid bit back an annoyed growl. She had a good point on that subject.

"Why couldn't you keep it in your room?"

"I want to be out here with everyone," she huffed. "If I hide away in my room all the time, then I might as well be a prisoner. At least when I'm out here, I can help the others when I'm not working on the chores you've given me. Most people keep their looms in the main room."

He sighed heavily. Again, that was a good point, but none of it explained the scene he walked in on. "And what of my men playing jesters?"

"Oh, that," Nami said, with a dismissive wave. "We were talking and they mentioned a song, so I asked Halle to play it." Kid glared at the other guard who had finally set aside his lyre wearing a bashful smile. "It's no crime to enjoy yourself as you work, Kid."

"I suppose not," he mused, glancing between the three men. "You all will be at the docks tomorrow." He growled at their disappointed groans, and then shot a glare at the smiling woman in the middle of it. "I'm going to have to rotate your guards to keep you from enchanting all of them."

She gasped in a mocking show of offense. "I would never do such a thing." He raised his brow skeptically, and she snorted with laughter. "All I did was show them some kindness, Kid. And they were eager to help and keep me happy. For _your_ sake, of course. You were the one who ordered them to see to my well-being."

"I didn't order them to wait on you hand and foot," he pointed out.

She dismissed him with another wave as she went to inspect Gunda's work. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort to lecture her further, Kid glowered at all the things strewn around the room. She had more items on his table – a new set of combs, hair pins, strips of leather decorated with beads. She had definitely taken some time to play with her hair. Among the accessories, he spotted a thick piece of wool stuck with pins that appeared to be in the shape of a wolf's head. He guessed that was the start of a template for his flags, so that meant she hadn't wasted the whole day with her hair and dresses.

He picked up one of the combs to inspect the finer craftsmanship that went into carving the piece of antler. Whoever made it decorated it with intricate knots, likely spent hours on the piece.

"Should I assume you spent that whole purse today?" he asked, setting aside the comb to take the cup of ale Axel brought to him. His man wore an apologetic look. He couldn't even be mad at them. Nami obviously took advantage of them that day. At least they kept her happy, that would hopefully go a long way in the future.

He might not have to sleep in her room every night to stop her from running away.

"Not even half, though I'll have to pay the craftsman for the loom." Nami's voice was muffled as Gunda helped her out of the pinned dress, leaving her in the simple white linen shift she wore beneath. "I'm keeping the rest as a fine for this morning."

He glared. "I wouldn't have been there if you had just stayed put. I was doing my duty."

She let out a sharp laugh. "Your duty doesn't involve sharing my bed."

"I should have just tied you up," he grumbled into his cup as his men and the servant woman looked at him in open shock. He caught Wire rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a long suffering sigh. Killer was the only one who didn't outwardly react, but he was already aware of what had happened. Kid was certain he had his own opinion, but wisely kept it to himself. "She tried to run away," he shouted in an attempt to defend himself.

"And that is why I'm keeping what I didn't spend," Nami stated.

All he could do was growl in her all too smug expression. She even stuck her tongue out at him before spinning away to gather her things.

"Gunda, help me clean up the hall," she called to the servant woman. "Supper should nearly be ready."

Kid glared at the woman as she and Gunda scooped up every piece of stray fabric and thread to cart back to her room. He wanted to be annoyed with her, but as she walked away, he noticed a bounce to her step. Her mood was light, and for the first time she didn't seem to be worrying over any inescapable fate. He was loath to ruin that mood in any way and felt his lingering irritation wane as she vanished into the back rooms.

Killer cleared his throat beside him, and then nudged his arm to draw his attention to the others in the hall. Finn and Halle were whispering in the ears of the other men who were finally making their way to the hall for the night's meal, and he didn't miss their conspicuous glances in his direction. When Axel joined in, Kid growled loudly and slammed his cup of ale on his table.

"Stop gossiping about me, idiots!" His outburst only seemed to incite their curiosity as the group crowded around his table with expectant looks. He was beginning to see what Nami meant about giving fodder to the rumors. Well, he wasn't having any of it. "She was trying to run away! Get your heads out of your asses before I shove my sword up there with 'em!"

* * *

That night, Kid stayed up long after dinner to talk with his men about their upcoming journeys. As he spoke with Axel about the work Nami needed to do before then, he found he was glad she thought to get an extra loom and supplies that she could keep at the hall. She was safer in the hall with his men, and this way she wouldn't interfere with the thralls seeing to his sails. She was right about that much. He couldn't get anywhere without those sails.

Nami had gone to bed after sitting with Gunda and a few other servants for a while. They had cleaned out the plates from dinner and sat for a while to work on Nami's new dresses, along with the sigil for his ships' flags. He idly listened to their conversation when Nami asked the older servant woman how she came to his hall, eager to know more about the woman she spent her day with.

Gunda had belonged to the previous Jarl's household as a servant. Her grandfather had been a bondsman, taken in to pay off a large debt. His children and grandchildren came with him, and remained with the house long after his debt had been paid and the grandfather had passed. They had decent lodging, regular meals, and the men swore their fealty to the Jarl in exchange for a chance to go raiding and earn a little extra compensation.

When Kid went to war with the previous Jarl to protect his friends' and their land, as well as dole out justice for the compensation he was due, Gunda's family fought on the former Jarl's side. The woman had been trained in combat, along with her brothers, and was left behind to protect the Jarl's wife and daughter when the men went raiding. She was a shieldmaiden in her own right, but when Kid's men slew her brothers, and the lady of the house took her own life when her husband died, Gunda laid down her sword in surrender and pled for mercy for the Jarl's daughter.

Kid agreed, barring she stay on to help manage the household and thralls as a bondsman. She was little better than a slave like the others, but he respected her determination at the time, and he had won his battle. He didn't need to slaughter the women along with the men, not when they had plenty of uses. And she was a decent enough combatant when she needed to be, so his home would be in good hands if he left it in her care, along with a few of his most trusted men, while he was away.

Hearing her tell the tale again brought it to the forefront of his mind. Nami obviously was more comfortable with the women, and she might be more agreeable if her guards didn't consist entirely of his men. Her clan had been protected by shieldmaidens, after all. She might be more at ease with one.

After she went off to bed, he broached the subject with his men. Gunda hadn't picked up a sword in nearly three years, she would be rusty and could do with some training to strengthen again. The men were mostly agreeable, though there were a few complaints at the idea they weren't trusted over a pathetic woman. Kid had to remind them that the woman in question had slain a handful of men on her own during their battle and was far from pathetic. She would suffice as a last defense should the rest of them fall.

His decision made, he decided to make his way to bed, thinking that he would discuss the matter with Nami and the servant in the morning. As he pushed aside the curtains to his room, though, he noticed the faint flicker of candlelight filtering from Nami's room through a crack in the curtain. His guards hadn't reported anything amiss to him, which meant Nami hadn't made another escape attempt, but he was wary to see that she was awake so late. She might be waiting for everyone to go to sleep so she could slip out.

He shook away his suspicions as he shed his wool tunic, tossing it into the corner along with his leather boots. Nami had spent the whole day buying supplies for her stay here. He doubted she would put that much effort into a ruse to lower his guard. At least he hoped she wouldn't.

He frowned at the curtain as uncertainty continued niggle at the back of his mind.

He crossed his room in three steps, and tugged back the barrier to poke his head into Nami's room. The woman jumped where she sat in her bed, and let out a quiet yelp as the movement caused her to stick herself with a needle.

"What do you want?" Nami shouted before shoving her index finger in her mouth to soothe the prick.

Kid didn't answer immediately as he stepped into her room to look around. He pushed back the tapestry to see the escape hatch was closed up tight. Her cloak was hung on a peg at the foot of her bed. Her blue dress sat neatly folded on a chest beneath it, her shoes on the floor. She had piled her fabric and yarn onto a small table he had set beside the curtain, with the pinned template in the middle of it all. She kept her axe propped beside her bed, her knife on the table with the candles.

If she meant to leave in the middle of the night, she would have to move around quite a bit, and surely she knew that would risk waking him.

"I'm staying," she snapped when she understood the reason for his inspection. "You've made it perfectly clear that I have no choice in the matter."

"You have a choice," he grunted, swinging his gaze back to her. She was curled up under her blankets wearing the wool tunic Heat had lent her. She had removed the finer braids in her hair for the night, and bound it back in a long, loose braid to sleep in. The yellow dress Gunda had been helping her pin was draped over her lap and it appeared she had made a fair amount of progress on stitching it together. "I'm just making sure you choose right."

Nami rolled her eyes and turned back to her sewing. "You're just being a stubborn ass," she muttered.

Kid chuckled, approaching the bed. "That, too."

Her lips tugged into a terse frown and she glared as he sat on the bed beside her legs. "You better not be planning to sleep in here again."

"I have my doubts when you say you're going to stay, but you look comfortable, so I think I can trust you enough to leave you be tonight," he mused as he leaned back over her legs. "I was surprised to see you were still awake, though. Seeing as you've been up since before dawn."

"I couldn't sleep." Nami shrugged, focusing intently on pushing her needle through a thick fold of wool.

Kid hummed. "You sure you don't want my company, then?" He chuckled at the glare she sent in answer. "I'm teasing."

Her eyes narrowed in warning one last time and then she was sewing again.

"You have another dream?" he asked after a moment of thought.

Nami shook her head. He wasn't sure how much he could believe that answer, but he let it drop there.

"I heard you talking with Gunda over dinner," he commented. "You seem to be getting along with her well."

"She's very nice," Nami said, a smile giving away the truth of that sentiment. "I was glad to have her company today."

"Would you feel better if you had it every day?"

She looked up from her sewing at the question, her eyes blinking with confusion. She gave him a subtle nod.

"I'm thinking to let her take up the sword again," Kid explained, "and have her act as your personal guard."

Nami's eyes widened with her gasp. "You'd make her a shieldmaiden again?"

He nodded. "Your clan was protected by them from the start, and Gunda is a good warrior. She's loyal, too. If we're attacked, I can trust her to stay at your side, and if you need to run, you can take her with you while the rest of us stay back to fight. That way at least you won't be alone out in the wilderness." Nami's mouth had fallen open in her shock, and she didn't speak a word for a long moment. He regarded her with a raised brow. "Are you fine with that plan?"

Nami shook away her stupor and allowed herself to smile. "Does this mean your men can stop following me around all day? And I won't have to worry about them guarding me as I bathe?"

"You'll still have some of my men with you," he said flatly. "Gunda will be your last defense. My men will stand and fight at the first threat. But…" He sighed. "I'll trust her to guard you in their stead when you bathe. After how easily you manipulated those three today, I don't want to imagine what they'd be willing to do for you if they saw you naked."

Her grin was blinding. "I would charge them every piece of gold and silver they had in their possession, and they would be lucky if they were still capable of having children after they walked away."

Kid grimaced at the underlying threat in that statement. His gut told him she wouldn't hesitate to geld a man if she felt it necessary.

"I'll see that they understand that," he grunted.

"That warning goes for you, too." Her leg nudged him in the back. "Get out of my bed."

"Yeah, yeah, don't start sharpening your knife just yet," he grumbled, pulling himself up with a tired groan. He shot her a grin once he stood. "But, if you ever do want my company in bed, all you have to do is ask."

Her eyes snapped to her knife, and he raised his hands in surrender while slowing backing toward his room. His grin never wavered, though.

"I'm joking," he argued.

"Just go to bed," she huffed, waving him off.

"I'm going. Get some rest, woman." He pulled back the curtain, intent on going to bed before another thought struck him. "Axel told you about the upcoming trip, right?" She glanced up and nodded. "You're coming with us on that." Her eyes widened with surprise again. "I'm taking a large number of my men. The village will be too vulnerable for you to stay here. You'll be safer with us. And I figure, with what you said about sailing and navigating, you'd enjoy the trip, too."

Excitement flit over her eyes, telling him that he assumed right on that point, but then it dimmed. "You're raiding, too. I'd only get in your way then."

"I'm only meaning to take you on the trading journey to Álasund. You'll return to the village with a contingent of my men to drop off the ivory and oil we'll be getting in return. The rest of us will sail west to the isles to raid. You'll be safe with the men I send you back with, so there won't be any need for you to go further west." He didn't miss the disappointment in her frown and turned to lean against the wall, his arms crossed as he regarded her. "Don't tell me you want to go raiding?"

"I don't want to raid, no," she huffed. "But I've always wanted to see the islands to the west. Genzo never took me on a voyage that far, he only took me to Hedeby to trade. I only know of Britain from maps."

"Sailing the seas must be in your blood," he mused. "That and gold. You sure you're not related to Rán?"

"I'm sure," she huffed.

"I'd prefer to avoid dragging you into a battlefield, but I'll give some thought to taking you on the raid. If all goes well, they'll pay us to leave again. You won't be in much danger in that case, but it's not a risk I'm willing to take."

Nami nodded her understanding, though she still appeared unhappy.

"Have you ever seen the western coast of Noreg?" he asked. She shook her head, and he grinned. "You'll have plenty to see there. If you're set on exploring, we'll see if this other Jarl wants to entertain you with a voyage around the fjords while I take my men raiding." She didn't appear as excited, but she smiled again. The idea might pass when the time comes. "I'll sleep on it, though. And you do the same." He pointed at her dress. "You can finish that tomorrow."

Nami pouted at his command, and he waved off the look as he turned into his room.

"Good night, Nami."

"Good night, Kid," she called back. "And thank you."

He paused in surprised, unsure what she was thanking him for. With how determined she was to fight him over everything, though, hearing that simple gratitude set him at ease. And she wasn't crying anymore, which only made the feeling better.

He went to bed feeling light-hearted and content.

She would stay. Even if his future looked bleak because of it, it was still for the best that she remain with them as long as she could. His instincts told him as much, and he wasn't going to ignore that feeling.

She was meant to be there. He couldn't say why, but that didn't matter. She would be safest with his people, and he would do whatever it took to keep her that way.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So I made up some more Kid crew members in this chapter. Axel is based on the guy with the mohawk you can see lingering in the background of Kid's crew in some panels pre-time skip (and then his story design somehow turned him into a Ragnar Lothbrok look-a-like). Gunda is just a woman I imagine fitting into the crew. I usually imagine Kid's crew being solely made up of men, but I thought the same thing of Law's and now we've learned he does have one woman on his crew, so Kid might have one, too. Either way, Nami needs some women to hang out with, anyway, so had to make up a few OCs for this fic._

 _By the way, I picked Axel's name mainly because it's of Norse origin, but also it reminds me of axle which I feel fits as a name for Kid's crew. Most of the OCs that aren't based on the little flashes of Kid's other crew members will be getting Norse style names. Oh, and the funny thing with Axel's name that I didn't expect - it's apparently related to the name Absalom. No, he's not gonna be the Norse variation of Absalom, but I found that hilarious. And no, Absalom won't be in this fic. I figure Kid's got more than enough people to kill._

 _And a note for Stef - I did take a lot of inspiration for the hall from Ragnar's hall on Vikings. It's a very nice looking hall, and I love those leather net curtains and his whole throne set up. And I'm very glad you mentioned getting a feeling of Game of Thrones, because I have been working on A Feast For Crows again, about halfway through, and it's very much helping me write this._

 _I might be focusing on this fic for a while because I have some action coming up that I want to get to. Also the trip to Alasund and Britain will have a lot of material to further the plot. Alasund, by the way, is taken from Alesund, Norway - everyone go look that up and see the pictures and you might be able to guess who the Jarl he's visiting is. Maybe. When I was looking at western Norwegian towns, this one just perfectly fell into the story for the characters living there. It reminds me of a certain island the Straw Hats visited, a certain island where the characters in this village live(d). Honestly, it's just really pretty and I hope someday I can visit there if I can manage to get to Norway._

 _Another Straw Hat might be making a guest appearance in Alasund, too._


	8. Chapter 8

_Warning: There is a graphic depiction of violence/ torture in the last section of this chapter. A reminder that this fic is going to be extremely dark and cruel, and very bad things are going to happen to a lot of characters throughout._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Directions_

The weeks passed quickly in Kid's village. With every day she spent among his men and people, falling into their pace and routines, Nami grew more comfortable there. It wasn't quite the same as her home had been, but she was safe for the time being and among free people who were happy with their lives. She hesitated to call Kid and his men friends, but they were certainly the closest she had to anything of the sort, and she had come to enjoy their companionship during the day as she worked.

Gunda had certainly become a friend to her as the older woman stayed by her side most waking hours of the day. She had spent some nights in her room, as well, when Nami found herself unable to sleep. They worked at her dresses those nights and whispered about the latest gossip in the village, all while they listened to Kid snore in the room beside her. He had grown more at ease with her in his hall, too. He trusted her to stay until she had no choice but to run, though he still peeked in on her at night before they went to bed to see that she settled in properly. The nights she stayed awake with Gunda only seemed to help quell his worries. He slept with ease knowing she had a loyal shieldmaiden in her company to see she didn't take off into the night.

There were only two nights that he had found his way into her room and remained until dawn. Her nightmares had abated over the weeks, but every now and then she would be assaulted with disjointed images of her wolf guardian and the giant meant to kill him. Some nights she awoke with a start in the pitch dark of her room, alone and gasping for breath. She lit a candle to chase off the shadows of her dream and spent the rest of the night distracting herself with the heraldry she was tasked to make.

But there were two nights she didn't wake so easily as the dreams dragged her under. Those nights were the worst she had since she had been wandering alone. She could feel the wet soil beneath her fingertips as she knelt beside the dying wolf. She could smell the noxious breath of the giant towering over her, preparing to snatch her away. She wanted to wake as her throat tightened and she struggled to breathe through every gut wrenching sob, but then the giant grabbed her by the neck and she found herself trapped with no hope of escape.

Those two nights she woke with a strangled sob when Kid shook her, the man snarling loudly above her, demanding she snap out of it. The first time he did that, she nearly screamed and he had to cover her mouth with his hand to keep her silent. He commanded her to breath in deep as she stared up at his rusty brown eyes, the only part of him that she could see in the darkness. Once she calmed and relaxed beneath him, he shifted to lay down beside her with a sharp order that she go back to sleep. The first time he did that she tried to tell him to leave, that she could sleep on her own, that it had been nothing but a nightmare. He growled for her to shut up and wound his arm around her, telling her that she had no choice in the matter.

He also agreed to hand over another purse filled with gold coins, so she decided it wouldn't hurt to let him stay. The weight of his arm over her shoulders grounded her. The warmth of his body at her back chased away the chill that set into her bones in the dream. He reminded her that he was still alive, that she wasn't alone, and that she would find a way to change his fate, no matter what it took to do so.

Those nights she fell back to sleep without any struggle and was met with a comforting darkness devoid of haunting dreams.

By the middle of the third week, Nami was content, busy enough most days that she was able to put her fears to the back of her mind. With summer rapidly approaching, the weather had grown warm, the days long, and Nami felt her spirits lift as the village prepared for the upcoming voyages. She was looking forward to the chance to see new lands, a dream she had long held finally coming to fruition.

She only wished Nojiko and Genzo could see it for themselves.

She tried not to think too much of them, though they were always present at the back of her mind and sometimes her worries visited her in her dreams. She didn't have to wonder how they were doing. She knew well enough what they would face from Arlong the longer she was away. She could only hope that they were still alive. As long as they survived and struggled on, she would find a way back to them and free them like she had always planned to do.

That day she found herself thinking of Nojiko even more than normal. A deeper worry had crept along her spine as she sat on the porch of Kid's hall with the old lady Ingrid at her side. Gunda was standing tall on the ground, at ease in the safety of the village save for the sword she was now allowed to carry on her hip. They were watching the children play in the yard with Nami's other guards for the day who turned their childish swordplay into a training game. The boys and girls chased after the young Finn as he darted among the nearby houses, laughing as he smacked away every strike of a blunted sword.

Finn was only sixteen, barely even a man, and he had only seen real battle a handful of times during the previous summer's raids. His youthful face didn't bear the evidence of war like most of Kid's men, and his gaze still held a glimmer of innocence that made him popular with the village girls. His ash brown hair was kept in a short, curly mop that only added to his boyish appearance. Over the weeks, Nami had learned that the man was a charmer, adept with sweet words that easily fooled a number of the girls. Not so much Nami, but she let him believe otherwise as she took advantage of his willingness to please. And he was sweet, she didn't want to ruin his fun.

Hróarr, a man twice the Jarl's age, stood scowling in front of the hall as he leaned against a spear. Blue-black hair peppered with grey was pulled back in a tight tail, revealing the sharp widow's peak of his hairline. A thick beard greying faster than his hair, was always kept neatly combed with a slender tuft tied into a braid beneath his chin. It hid his sea-weathered face, the deep wrinkles and hollow eyes that gave away his age. He appeared stern and unamused with the game, but as soon as Finn was in reach, he angled his spear out and tripped the teenager into the dirt. He acted as though nothing was amiss as the children tackled the other warrior with shrieks of victory, only kept from injuring the man for real when Gunda flew in to scatter the kids with a wave of her hands.

The older warrior had lost his farmlands to the previous Jarl, and after Kid seized control, he chose to remain in the village as one of Kid's men. His wife had left him when he lost his land and took the children with her. He had nothing left, so dedicated himself to battling at Kid's side, even though Kid offered to return some of his lands to him. He was quiet, which lent to his serious demeanor, but he typically warmed up to the kids with ease, and had been the one to train Finn when he took up the sword. Nami suspected the teen had become a son to him over the last few years, just as all of Kid's men had come to be family to one another.

Nami could relate to that sentiment, even if the reminder of her relationship with Bellemere and Genzo brought a pang of remorse to her heart.

Ingrid's granddaughter and a girl a few years older than her had been peacefully sewing dresses for a doll Nami had made them when the boys descended, looking for a new game to play with the other at an end. Nami scowled as one of them took the doll and ran off with it, threatening to toss it into the river as a poor offering to the gods. She was prepared to chase him down herself, but paused when the girls ran after him instead. She stifled a laugh when they jumped on his back and forced him to the ground. They won back their doll after a flurry of hits to the boy's head and didn't stop until he was sobbing for mercy.

The sight reminded her of the days she and Nojiko would get into fights with the village boys. Bellemere scolded them for it until they told her they only got into a fight because the boys were insulting their mother. The boys were already a sobbing mess after Nami and Nojiko were done with them, but after Bellemere gave them a few more hard knocks on the head, they learned to leave them be most of the time.

A lot of those boys had died over the years after Arlong came. That was what happened when anyone thought to rise up against the new Jarl.

She didn't think Arlong would kill Nojiko, at least not yet. Her sister was a priceless hostage to leverage for Nami's return. If he killed her, then she had nothing else tying her to the village except for Genzo, and the former Jarl would never forgive her if she went back for him. Nami would have no reason to return if Nojiko was gone, and Arlong was smart enough to know that.

But while her sister surely lived still, there was no doubt that her conditions would be horrible, far worse than anything they had endured over the last eight years.

She pushed aside her worries as best she could to smile at the two girls sauntering back to the porch, their heads held high with pride. Nami smiled and gestured for them to bring the doll over so she could see if it was damaged. The other boys had scampered off, unwilling to test the girls' wrath after seeing their friend fall so easily to them. The other boy was being picked up by the arm by Hróarr who wasted no time in swiftly cuffing the sobbing child on the back of the head before lecturing him on his behavior toward the girls. He shoved the boy toward Gunda to have him cleaned up, the boy's lip bleeding from a gash that came from his fall, and then went back to his position in front of the hall, leaning his weight on his spear to watch over the newest game Finn had started with the children still wanting to play with the warriors.

This time it was actual sword fighting lessons with their blunted weapons.

Nami was brushing the dirt from the doll when she spotted Killer jogging through the village. He usually stopped by the hall throughout the day to check on her – Kid's orders. She assumed it was the same that day, though his haste in reaching them had her curious.

"Why the rush?" she asked once he reached the porch to greet them. Killer patted the girls on the head as they sat in front of her, and gave Nami a warm smile.

"Kid sent me. He wants everyone at the docks and shoreline," he explained.

"Everyone?" she asked as she handed the doll back to the girls.

Killer nodded and glanced toward the hall as Gunda returned with the boy. He held a bloodstained rag to his lip as he sniffled back a few more tears. He shot a sneer at the girls as he leaped off the porch, and was smacked on the back of the head by the shaft of Hróarr's spear a second later for it.

"What happened there?" Killer asked as he watched the boy slump off to sit by himself, sulking over his day's injuries.

"He took their doll. They beat him up," Nami explained with a laugh.

"Someday that boy will learn not to anger a woman," Ingrid said sharply. "If he doesn't before he's married, his wife will surely correct that."

Killer snorted in amusement and gestured toward the river. "We should head over. Kid won't be happy if his audience isn't present."

"Why does he want an audience, anyway?" Nami asked as she picked herself up and helped Ingrid stand, Gunda handing the old woman a gnarled piece of wood that acted as her cane. "What is he up to?"

"You'll see," Killer grunted as he waved at Finn and the other children. "Go to the docks. Jarl's orders," he called to them.

The children's faces lit up with excitement, as did Finn's. The kids ran off shouting their glee, ensuring that the rest of the village heard of the Jarl's orders if they hadn't already. Finn looked like he wanted to take off with them, but hung back with his eager grin. He had his own orders to follow. He couldn't leave Nami, even if she had plenty of guards to watch over her.

"Boy, come help an old lady to the river," Ingrid called to him.

Finn skipped over, grinning happily as he took her free arm in his to help keep her steady while she hobbled through the village. Within her home she moved with more ease, but out in the streets she found it harder and harder to walk for long distances.

"I don't see an old lady here," Finn chirped. "Just many beautiful young women."

Ingrid smacked him on the head with her cane and cackled at his pained yelp. "Flattery will get you nowhere with me, boy. It might work on the young ones, but you can't fool me."

Nami laughed as she fell in step with Killer, winding her arm through his. "I get the feeling that everyone knows what's going on but me," she teased.

"That's because they do," Killer chuckled.

"I don't even get a hint?" she asked.

Killer merely smirked and tugged her along. She let out a feigned huff of annoyance, but didn't press him further. If he meant this to be a surprise for her, then she'd play along.

The docks and beach along the river were crowded, every villager heeding Kid's orders without fail. Children scampered among the legs of adults, squeezing in wherever they could. A few found their parents and were lifted up to see above the crowds, those kids waved down at their friends to rub in their luck at getting a better spot. Killer led their group over to the docks, nudging aside other spectators until a path opened in front of him. Nami glanced back to see the others following. She snickered when she caught Hróarr at the back of their group, scowling at everyone he passed as Ingrid's granddaughter and her friend sat on each of his shoulders, clinging to his head to keep their perch.

At the end of the long wooden dock Killer had picked for them, Nami spotted Heat waiting at the end with a few of Kid's other men. The healer held a leather drum that he handed over to Killer once they reached him. Killer left her to sit up on the piling at the end of the dock where some of the other men sat with their feet dangling into the water. Two of them had drums while a third held a large brown and white horn.

As she maneuvered to stand at the end, Heat helping to steady her near the edge, Nami noticed that even the fishermen had pulled in their nets. The few that went out to the deeper waters of the fjord had rowed their ships in closer to sit at the mouth of the river, and stood on their decks watching upstream.

The dock had been claimed by most of Kid's men, the few that couldn't fit took to the shallow water around them. She saw Halle standing tall out in the gentle current of the river and waved at the man as he waded closer. Her favorite lyre player grinned behind his trim beard. His sandy brown hair, flecked with bits of grey around his temples despite barely being into his thirties, was soaking wet, and he went without his tunic in the water. Many of Kid's men had shed their tops as they waded in the water, and Nami noticed why Halle's hair was wet as she watched one of Kid's men tackle another into the water. The men had been playing as they waited for everyone to take up their spots.

Nami knelt down once Halle was close and raised an eyebrow at the man as he pulled himself up to rest his torso on the dock beside her.

"No one's telling me anything," she complained. "What's going on?"

His grin widened. "You'll see."

She huffed as he shoved away from the dock with a short laugh and waded back out to his friends. She didn't have to wait much longer to find out for herself. Killer and the other drummers had begun to pound out a steady beat that echoed off the rolling hills around the mouth of the river and fjord. Nami stood and looked up the river where everyone's attention seemed to be. She tried to lean out so she could peer around a tree-lined bend in the river when she thought she heard a short blast of a horn, but nearly fell in when their own horn player blew out a long note in reply, surprising her with the sound. Heat snagged her by the wrist to pull her away from the edge. She glanced up to smile her thanks sheepishly, and he merely regarded her with a stoic frown and nod.

"Patience," he muttered.

The first to cheer were the fishermen lined up on the far shore. They had the better vantage of the river upstream. As they began to beat their hands and oars on the wales of their smaller boats, Killer and the drummers increased their own beat, pounding louder as the horn wailed in answer of another call.

She let out a short laugh when she finally caught sight of a carved, serpentine figurehead on the prow of the ship as it rounded the bend. Kid had finished his newest ship and was launching it for everyone to see.

Her laughter caught in her throat as more of the longship came into view, and the initial cheers from the villagers turned into a roar of approval. She knew by the carvings of the figurehead that it was no average skeid, but even the few elaborate drekkar she had seen in her childhood paled in comparison to Kid's newest addition to his fleet.

She gaped as she counted out the oars, at least forty of them. The ship could easily carry eighty men. A true warship, one that was carved to look like a great sea serpent rising from the water. Or more like a beastly dragon come to devour their enemies.

With a beastly Jarl at its command.

Kid stood proudly at the steering oar of his ship, his wide grin easily spotted. She heard his barking laughter echo with the crowd, and then he raised his horn to his lips to give another long blast that the men on the docks immediately answered. The men who had been helping him build the ship were at the oars, guiding it along the river and slowing it as they reached the open dock it would moor at; the very dock she stood on. As it came closer, the men in the river sent up flurries of water to splash their friends in celebration. A few of the oarsmen splashed back with their oars until their friends snagged them and used them as leverage to climb from the water, boarding their new ship.

Nami stepped back to allow the men to toss ropes at the ship as Kid steered it in close. She was still gaping in awe as she took in the elaborate knotwork decorating the wale and prow, carvings of wolves bearing their fangs sprinkled throughout the knots.

The men had moved aside once the ship was secured to the dock and brought her in to take a closer look. Kid sauntered toward her, his chest puffed out and head held high. The reaction to his latest ship obviously made his pride swell, he seemed especially pleased with her awestruck look.

"Impressed?" he asked as he stepped up to balance on the side of the ship, a hand grasping the dock's piling to keep himself steady.

"It's… _big_ ," Nami said, trying to find the words to describe her thoughts.

Kid barked with laughter as he held out his hand for her to take. He pulled her onto the ship, holding onto her hand as she jumped onto the sunk deck of the ship.

"It's beautiful," she added as she let go of him to lean over the side and inspect the carvings better. "Who carved these?"

"Yours truly," Kid said, preening as she gaped up at him again. He sat down on the wale beside her and watched as she turned to look over the whole interior of the ship. His whole attention was on her, even as some of the more curious villagers and children came to see the ship up close. "It's my biggest ship," he explained, "so you're not wrong in that. Should be able to carry over eighty men, plus supplies and plunder." He slapped his hand on the side of the ship. "She's not as agile as my smaller ships, but she'll still be as fast. And ought to hold up in a storm without a problem."

Nami silently nodded her agreement. The framing of the ship looked sturdy, and the rigging seemed strong when she tested a line. The sail was new, made of vertical strips of red and yellow fabric. It fluttered loose in the afternoon breeze, and she could tell the thralls did a good job in keeping their seams strong so it would hold in the harsh winds of the open sea.

"I've even been thinking of a name for her," Kid said, drawing her attention back to him as he came over to lean against the ropes she had been inspecting.

"Have you?" she asked, laughing at the excitement brightening his eyes.

Kid nodded as he swayed lightly, a ripple of the river's current rocking the ship. "She's going to be my fleet's figurehead. The lead ship." He grasped onto a rope high above his head, looking up as he held tight when another wave rocked them. "She'll strike terror into the hearts of my enemies."

Nami laughed quietly. Outwardly he seemed calm, but she could see his happiness in his smile and feel his exhilaration radiate off his tense frame.

"And the name to suit such a ship?" she prompted.

Kid chuckled and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "The Giant's Nightmare." Her eyes went wide at the name. She could easily guess where it came from. "If I didn't mean to kill him, this ship will haunt your giant's worst dreams and make him fear that my ghost will come for him, drag him to Hel where he belongs. But, as I said, if I die, I'm taking the bastard with me."

She was too stunned to speak as he pulled away. His confidence had her hoping that he would succeed in all he said, as well as hope that she could succeed at what her ancestor claimed they could do. She snapped out of her shock when his hand came down to pat her on the head and rest there when she tilted her head back to gaze up at his cocky smile.

"You approve?" he asked. She nodded dumbly, and Kid chuckled as he gave her head another pat. "Good," he said and let his arm fall to drape over her shoulders. "You'll be riding in this ship when we go to Álasund in three days. I want to see how good a navigator you really are."

"Wait… Three days? I thought we had at least another week?"

"I finished the ship ahead of schedule, the other skeids I mean to take to England are ready, and the men have the knarrs mostly loaded up. I'd rather not waste any more time getting that cargo out and get on that raid. That going to be a problem?"

She scowled in thought. "Your flags are mostly done. Since the thralls are done with the sails, I can use a few to help with the last of them."

"I only need one for this ship and the two smaller skeids, just worry about packing a chest and help Killer make sure we got all the supplies we need."

Her earlier worries drifted to the back of her mind again as she let excitement wash over her. She might not be able to sail with the men to Britain, but she still looked forward to getting away from the village for few weeks. She would have a chance to see part of a world she hadn't before. It also put more distance between her and Arlong, but she didn't want to think about him.

"And you'll let me navigate?" she asked cheerfully, smiling up at Kid.

"Might as well." He shrugged while trying not to grin teasingly. It broke when he chuckled. "That story you told me about your old Jarl made me curious to see just how much you knew. Might give me another clue to where your clan came from, too."

"You're still trying to figure that out?"

He hummed idly. "I'm curious by nature."

"Well, if I have my way, you'll be guessing at it forever," she teased, patting him on the chest. She pulled away and turned to get back on the dock. She had a trip to prepare for and not a lot of time.

She froze just as she stepped up on the side of the ship when two hands landed solidly on her hips.

"Where do you think you're going? We're not done celebrating the new ship," Kid chuckled as his hold tighten.

"Kid… What are you…?" Her question was cut off with a shriek as he lifted her and held her above his head. "Kid!" she screamed in warning as he turned toward the other side of the ship where his men in the water were still splashing and playing around. "Don't you dare!"

His men saw what the Jarl was doing and spread out while cheering him on. She thrashed in a vain hope of escape, but his hold was too tight. She screamed at the top of her lungs when he sent her flying into the river, just barely cutting it off before she swallowed a lungful of water. She came up spluttering and growled as she turned to the man cackling loudly from the deck of the ship.

"You jerk!" she screamed at him. "I expect another purse of gold for this!"

Kid only continued to laugh, his head back as he clutched his belly with mirth. The laugh didn't end until Killer snuck up behind him. It was Nami's turn to shriek with laughter as she watched the blond surprise his friend and shove him overboard. Kid came up snarling curses at his friend before he had to duck as Killer plunged into the water beside him, curling into a tight ball to ensure Kid was splashed with his entrance.

Before they knew it, the whole crew was in the water, along with most of the village. The day came to a screeching halt as everyone set aside their chores in favor of playing in the cool river.

For the first time in years, Nami found herself having fun.

* * *

Kid was exhausted by the time he and the others managed to drag themselves out of the water, but he couldn't stop grinning. Even after Nami tried to drown him for throwing her in the river, his good mood couldn't be shaken. Seeing Nami laugh and actually enjoy herself with his men certainly helped.

She had been falling into melancholy less and less over the weeks, though there had been days he caught her staring off in the distance, unfailingly toward the southeast, the direction of her home and all the people she had left behind. Between everyone at the hall and within the village, those moments were broken with ease as someone found a way to distract her. The longer she was allowed to think about the man that would surely hunt her down eventually, the more chance there was that she would try to run away.

The happier she was there, the less likely she was to vanish.

Her nightmares still bothered him, but as far as he could tell they had become less frequent. There were nights he stirred awake to see candlelight flickering from her room, and he guessed those nights were restless but not bad enough to wake him. Normally the next night she would have Gunda in her room, staying up late to whisper with the woman as she put off sleep as long as she could. The shieldmaiden would remain the whole night through, giving Nami the company and security she needed to eventually fall asleep.

The nights she woke him with her thrashing and whimpering worried him most. He knew she was dreaming of his death, but there was nothing he could do to take those away. She would continue to have them until his fate caught up with him. In the meantime, all he could do was protect her from her own mind. He had noticed how soundly she slept in his arms when they road to the village. He had peeked at her a number of times during that ride to check that she was still breathing and always found her peaceful in sleep. She even wore a soft smile, a stark contrast to the horror etched on her face at the height of her visions. So when the nightmares came back, he took the risk of joining her in bed again to see if his presence would keep the dreams at bay.

He knew it worked the first morning when she didn't wake up screaming or pummeling him with a pillow. She still charged him a fine, but she didn't try to kill him, and she didn't argue with him about it as much the second time it happened.

He knew that neither of them should get to accustomed to the routine, for more reasons than just the gossip that would surely spread if anyone other than Killer knew about it. He didn't mind sharing a bed with her, though he hated being woken up beforehand, but a day would come when he wouldn't be there to shield her from her prophetic nightmares. She would have to rely on someone else to protect her dreams, or suffer without.

He hoped that as her magic broke free of its bonds, she would learn to control it so it wouldn't plague her sleep with nightmares, then he wouldn't have anything to worry about after he was gone.

That night, as the sun slowly began to set, they all made their way back to his hall with their spirits high. He doubted that Nami would have any trouble sleeping that night after they played for so long in the river, but her nightmares were hard to predict. With her cheerful laugh as Halle took to tousling her sopping wet hair on the way inside, and the playful banter she leveled on the rest, he couldn't see any shadows in her mind potentially ruining her night, and he wanted it to stay that way.

The thralls had worked on supper as they all had their fun, so as soon as they returned, they were assaulted with the pleasant scents of their dinners waiting for them. His men immediately took up their seats, still excitedly shoving and jostling one another as they fought over chairs and benches. Gunda set about helping serve while Nami headed to her room in the back, waving an apology because she wanted to change out of her wet dress.

Kid silently followed after her.

He went to his own room to change, as well, dumping water out of his boots to drench the furs on the floor. He listened to the rustling on the other side of the curtain as Nami shed her dress, and snorted when he heard a wet plop of fabric coupled with a disgruntled sigh.

"You could have ruined my dress," she called over to him, prompting him to chuckle as he pulled off his tunic.

"Your other dress mostly survived a swim in the Skaggerak. I doubt a few hours in the river did any harm to your newest one," he called back with another laugh, his wet trousers kicked into a corner. "And you can always use the excuse to make another one."

She snorted a rather unladylike laugh of her own. "I don't need the excuse. I'm already working on a new one."

"That green thing I saw you working on last night?" he asked while slipping into a new pair of yellow trousers.

Nami hummed an affirmative as he listened to more fabric rustling. There was a creak from her room that he knew came from her bed. "If you ever throw me in the river while I'm wearing that one, I'll definitely drown you."

He dared to peek through the curtains so she could see his devious smile. She was wrapped up in a linen sheet, a comb in hand as she tried to work out a tangled knot in her hair. When she noticed him watching, she shot him a glare but didn't scream for him to give her privacy, so he pushed the curtains aside to come into her room. He headed straight to the table she kept all her projects and picked out the green dress she had been working on.

"It doesn't look any different from your other dresses. What makes this one special?" he asked, eyeing her work to see if anything stood out. It looked like an average wool apron dress to him.

"I'm not even close to completing it," she huffed. "I mean to give it more stitching and trim, something more eye catching for ceremonies and festivals."

He hummed thoughtfully and then shrugged as he set the dress aside.

"Don't forget the gold you owe me," she reminded while she moved on to comb out another knot.

"You're really fining me for throwing you in the river? I didn't even do anything indecent," he said as he went back into his room to find a few coins to appease her with. It hadn't taken long for him to figure out that gold and silver made Nami happy, and a happy Nami didn't argue with him as much.

"It's the principle of the matter. You should be treating me with respect," she said.

He came back into her room and glowered at her arrogant tone. "Why? Because you're a special little prophetess the gods have decided I have to protect?" he asked, going over to her and tousling her hair even more. She shrieked as he ruined her work at combing out the tangles and shot him a heavy glare. He merely laughed and sat on the bed beside her, holding out two gold coins that she quickly snatched for herself. She added them to the purse she kept tucked inside the frame of her bed. It was getting rather fat with all the fines she had leveled against him, and he suspected she was saving every piece of it for the day she might have to run again.

"As far as I'm concerned, I respect you plenty," he said with a groan, flopping back in her bed to stretch. Fatigue was beginning to set into his muscles after the activity of the afternoon, and he swore her bed was more comfortable than his. Maybe that was why he liked sleeping in there so much.

"How so?" she asked, glancing at him as she set about combing her hair again.

"You have your own room, your own bed. I humor your lousy fines even though I think they're unfair. I provide you with anything you need or want. And I haven't tried to sell you back to your village," he listed. "I'm also taking you with us to Álasund, possibly even to Britain if you ask nice enough." He grinned cheekily when she huffed at him. "I doubt any other Jarl would be so hospitable to you, at least given the circumstances of our meeting."

"You still didn't need to throw me in the river," she snapped.

He chuckled and nudged her in the side. "You looked like you had fun, though." She puffed her cheeks, only making him laugh harder as he reached up to pinch one. "Cute. I'm definitely going to throw you into the river again next chance I get."

She growled, smacking his hand away, but he swore he caught the faintest hint of a smile. He was right. She had fun with them that day.

Kid forced himself up with another long groan. If he laid there any longer, he might fall asleep in there and he doubted Nami would be willing to share the bed without a nightmare to use as an excuse.

"Hurry up and get dressed, woman," he grunted, ruffling her hair one last time. "You can comb your hair later. Don't get out to the hall soon and the guys are liable to eat your share of supper."

"Gunda will save me a plate," she said haughtily and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Then _I'll_ find it and eat it myself," he chuckled back. "I want your company at supper so we can talk about the voyage. If you aren't dressed when I'm done, then I'll drag you out there in that sheet and nothing else."

She threw her comb at his head. He just barely ducked behind the curtain before it struck him.

"Just hurry up," he ordered, and then went about finding a new tunic as he chuckled at her irritated grumbling in the other room.

By the time he was done redressing, he found Nami still slipping into her clean yellow dress.

"Close enough," he said.

She had barely gotten the dress over her head when he grabbed her by the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. He cackled as she struggled in his hold and headed out to the main room.

"I just need my brooches," she shrieked. "Put me down."

"I warned you," he teased. "You weren't fast enough."

She gave up halfway there and fell limp with a disgruntled sigh.

"I hate you," she huffed.

"No you don't," he chuckled. "Not even a little bit."

She muttered, "I wish I did," behind his back, and he broke out in a smug grin. He squeezed her around the waist to let her know he heard. Nami released another annoyed sigh.

No matter how much she pretended otherwise, Kid knew Nami was happy there.

And he wouldn't admit it to her, but he was pretty happy, too. Even if he was going to die in the end, he wouldn't change the fate that let him meet her.

* * *

It had been nearly a month since Nami escaped. A month filled with an agonizing hope that the woman she called sister was safe. A month spent quietly beseeching the gods to watch over her, to not abandon her.

Nojiko knew nothing of the woman's fate, but her heart swore that Nami was still alive out there. In a better place, with better people. Maybe even happy. She didn't know if she would ever see her again. She wanted to hope that she would, but at the same time she feared it. For if she were to ever see Nami again, then that likely meant Arlong had found her, and that was the last thing Nojiko ever wanted to see.

She would suffer in bitter loneliness for as long as she had to if it meant Nami was far away and safe. If she died before ever seeing Nami again, then she would die a little happier for it.

After Arlong captured her, he tied her up in a desolate shack next to the pigpen. Her prison stunk of manure day and night, but after two weeks she hardly noticed it. The rope around her wrists and ankles had chaffed them until they were raw and bleeding, but she was finally becoming numb to that pain. Though her limbs were stiff from being bound so long that she doubted she would ever manage to escape on her own, even if she somehow got by her guards.

The worst was the cough that had developed over the last week. Two days of chilly rain had assaulted their village, and with a meager pile of damp straw as her bed and a ragged piece of cloth to act as a blanket, the damp and cold set into her bones. She hardly slept those nights, and she knew she was falling ill with a fever. She knew Arlong meant to keep her alive for as long as he could, but he didn't care how much she suffered. He'd intervene and bring her to a healer if she became critical.

Every day that passed, his men brought her a meager breakfast of oat porridge and water. At night they brought her some old bread that was too stale to chew, so she was forced to soften it in the water they gave her and choke it down that way.

No matter how hopeless and bleak her situation was, she would stay alive. For Nami. She wouldn't leave their realm until she was certain Nami would never have to fear Arlong again.

That morning she woke in her damp straw bed and hissed as she strained on weak arms to sit up. She blinked away the crust in her eyes to squint at the light peeking in through the slats of wood in the door. It was later than normal. She had slept too long, which was strange enough. Sleep had been so hard to come by with her cough, but apparently the fever was leaving her more fatigued than she thought. She was still surprised, though, since one of Arlong's men should have woken her when they brought her breakfast.

There wasn't a bowl to show that they had come at all, which left her curious but she was too tired to think too long on it.

Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet to hop and hobble with her bindings to the small bucket Arlong had spared her to relieve herself in. With how little they fed her, she hardly needed it anymore.

She had just finished and was pushing down her skirts when she heard someone clomping through the dirt on their way to the shack. She moved back to her bed, collapsing onto the straw, just as the door swung open to reveal Kuroobi – one of Arlong's closest brothers.

His massive frame was dressed in a blue tunic and dark brown trousers, and his long black hair was tied in a knot at the back of his head. A knife hung from his thick leather belt, the only weapon he normally bothered to carry around the village. It was all he ever needed when dealing with the occasional rebellion. He was strong enough to snap a grown man's neck with his bare hands, so he saw no reason to carry around his sword.

She wasn't sure what to make of the long leather whip hanging loose in his hand.

"Come on, woman," he grunted as he came toward her, grabbing her by the arm to yank her off the ground. His grip was bruising tight, though he hardly looked to be putting any effort into it, and it only grew tighter as she stumbled on her feet.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, thinking to struggle for a split second as he dragged her after him.

"Arlong wants a word with you," he answered gruffly.

Her stomach twisted into knots at the foreboding in those words. A month had gone by without Nami resurfacing, and now Arlong wanted to speak to her. That meant his patience was thinning.

Kuroobi dragged her toward the Jarl's hall. It was only a few paces away, but she felt as though she had walked the length of Svealand by the time he shoved her down into the mud at the base of the hall's porch. She gasped for air and breathed in mud. She rolled to her side, coughing and retching and trying to get one clean breath.

She vaguely heard Arlong slowly descending the steps to stand in front of her so she wasn't surprised when she felt his hand in her hair, pulling her up to sit on her knees. She winced at the sharp sting of her scalp from his grip, and bit back a cry of pain when she felt some hairs rip out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her pain.

Once she was on her knees, she managed to glare up at their false Jarl. She didn't back down at the scowl he wore. She wouldn't show him fear.

He shoved away from her and stood tall. On her knees, he looked even more like a giant than he already did, but she refused to cower to him as he slowly paced around the square.

"It's been a month, and my beloved Nami has yet to return to us," he called out.

Nojiko finally took notice of all the people congregating around the area. Arlong's men and villagers alike. The Jarl's men all carried their swords and stood heads above the others. The villagers were tiny, meek, little better than rats as they nervously eyed the Jarl and his men. They must have been gathered there to witness whatever Arlong planned to do.

"I have missed her terribly this past month," Arlong continued, and Nojiko's lips twisted into a sneer at those words. He didn't miss her, not really. He was just angry that she had defied him, that she was no longer in his possession. "All of my men have. They have been nothing but brothers to her, and yet she repays us by running away. But I feel hopeful that we will find her, and with that in mind, I'm feeling generous…"

He turned back to her with a wide grin. A shiver ran down her spine at that grin.

"I will give you all a chance to tell me what you know of Nami's whereabouts. Surely she and her sister must have shared their plans with one of you," Arlong announced. "If you tell me where you believe her to be, I will wave your taxes for two whole weeks."

Nojiko frowned as the villagers glanced around. Not one of them knew anything. Not one of them would ever willingly talk to Nami to begin with. They wanted her to run away, and any shred of kindness she received would only make her hesitate to leave. If she felt any hope that she might be able to save them, then she would stay and suffer through Arlong's intentions.

"They know nothing," Nojiko said, her voice coming out as a croaking whisper. She hadn't spoken more than a few words in weeks, and her cough had left her throat scratchy and sore. "You're wasting your time."

Arlong hummed as he slowly sauntered back to her. "None of them?" he mused and waved toward another of his men. She watched as Chew came forward, his gaunt face pursed with a frown that was framed with thin a blond beard to match the short cropping of his hair. He yanked on a black steel chain, and she watched as Genzo came falling into the mud in front of her. His head was shaved clean, even the mustache and trim beard he had been so proud of in his youth was gone, only making him appear that much older and more frail in his weathered rags. "Tell me, _Jarl_ Genzo, do you know anything of their plans?"

Genzo found the strength to spit at Arlong's feet.

Arlong threw his head back as his laughter echoed over the somber village. Nojiko watched in horror as the giant's foot came down hard on Genzo's head, shoving him face first into the mud. Genzo thrashed and fought as best he could, but Arlong was stronger than him, even when Genzo was at full strength.

"Stop," Nojiko tried to yell, but her voice remained a harsh whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again, crying out until she felt her throat would tear with the effort. "Stop! He knows nothing!"

Arlong lifted his foot from the man's head and then kicked him in the ribs. Genzo rolled limply to his back, but Nojiko was relieved to see him drag in a desperate gasp. Arlong would keep him alive, too. Though his days were certainly numbered.

"I doubt that," Arlong said, but turned away from Genzo to focus entirely on her. He crouched before her and grasped her face tight in his hand. When she tried to pull from his hold, he snapped her head forward and she froze as she felt sharp pain lance down her neck. "But I admit we've treated him rather poorly over the years. He won't bat an eye at Kuroobi's knife if I told him to torture him. It'd only be one more scar to add to all the rest."

Nojiko glanced at the old Jarl who was struggling to get back to his hands and knees. When Arlong usurped him, he and his men had made of game of cutting Genzo up. He was a web of scars from it. They only kept him alive because they thought it amusing to watch him clean out the pig sty in rags and chains when he wasn't forced to play Arlong's footstool, or any other number of humiliations they made him endure.

Arlong jerked her head sharply again, forcing her attention back to him. He wore that sickening grin that sent another shiver down her spine.

"But you… oh you my dear, we've rather spoiled you over the years. You and your sister. I've hardly raised a hand to either of you, and you were once permitted to live in my hall. Compared to Genzo, you've been living in luxury, wouldn't you say?" He chuckled when she didn't answer with more than a scowl. "And I know that you have an idea of where Nami ran off to. You were going to run with her, after all. I'm sure she told you what route she planned to take."

"She didn't get the chance," Nojiko bit out.

Arlong only smiled at her. "Still protecting her. I'm sure the valkyries are pleased with your loyalty, and I surely do respect your conviction, but… Nami belongs to me. The gods have willed it, Nojiko. You would please them more if you told me where Nami went."

She spat in his face.

"So be it," Arlong growled, shoving her away. He waved Kuroobi over as he wiped his face clean. "I should never have been so lenient with you or your sister over the years," he said as Kuroobi grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the stocks.

The villagers looked around, contemplating if they should make a move to stop what was about to occur. Arlong's men pulled out their swords and put any thought of revolt abed, and the crowd stepped back warily.

Nojiko struggled to pull her hair free as she was dragged to one of four poles planted in the middle of the square. Genzo called for Arlong to stop the madness, pleaded for mercy. Arlong ignored him, and Chew yanked on his chains to choke off the rest. When Kuroobi shoved her forward into the pole and tore the rope off her wrists to secure them in the iron shackles dangling down from the top of the beam, the villagers once more began to mutter and glance around. One dared to raise his voice, demanding they stop, but he was silenced by the grip of a sword as it slammed into his face.

She bit back a whimper as the iron dug into the raw flesh around her wrists and squeezed her eyes shut in a bid for calm. Kuroobi grabbed her by the back of her haggard dress and she winced away when she felt the bit of his dagger at the back of her neck. At the first tear of cloth, she balled her fists and tried to jerk away. All she managed to do was earn an errant cut from the knife as he continued to draw it down the back of her dress.

A sob welled in her throat as he tore the the dress apart, baring the skin of her back.

"Tell me what you know now, Nojiko, and this doesn't have to happen," Arlong called to her as he took up a chair on the porch of his hall. She tilted her head up to glare. He stared back, impassive and uncaring, and then waved at Kuroobi when she gave him nothing.

She drew in tight to the pole with every step Kuroobi took away from her. One. Two. Three. Four. Five paces away. Her eyes shut again and she clenched her teeth. She wouldn't cry out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

The first lash of the whip was little more than a warning as it sliced through the air without hitting her. She winced despite herself, expecting the worst, and then relaxed when no pain came. She hardly took a breath when the real strike came snapping at her. The leather bit into her flesh viciously and she barely managed to swallow her cry. Kuroobi didn't pause between strikes and lashed her again, this time the pain sent her falling against the pole. Fire lanced up her spine with the third lash and she could barely hear the villagers weeping as blood rushed through her head, drowning out everything but the sound of the whip snapping in the air again. The fourth strike was the one to make her cry out as she felt her skin split open and the very air stung her to the core.

She didn't know how long Arlong meant for the torture to go on, but she refused to break, refused to betray her sister. But by the seventh strike she was screaming while her tears blinded her.

"One word, Nojiko!" Arlong called out over the eighth lash. "Just point me in the direction I need to go. Nami will never know you said anything." The ninth strike she felt her resolve shift, but not break. She could end this and at the same time slow him down. She didn't need to tell him the truth, just make him believe it was the truth. "Tell me, Nojiko."

"Alright!" she screamed out, breaking down with a loud sob as the tenth strike came painfully close to hitting her before Kuroobi pulled it back. She hung limp from her shackles, her legs too weak to keep her up. "She went south!"

"South?" Arlong asked, stepping down from his hall to walk toward her. "Where south? Hedeby? Or further?"

Nojiko couldn't stop crying. She only hoped this would work.

Arlong stood before her and grasped her by the hair to yank her head back. She stared up at his scowl and then more tears made her vision swim, blurring his cruel face mercifully.

"Normandy," she whispered tiredly. "She went to Normandy."

Arlong's eyes widened as she began to weep. He let her head fall as he walked past her, humming to himself in thought.

"Chew, take a ship to Hedeby," he commanded, and Nojiko would have rejoiced if she didn't think it would reveal her lie. "See if anyone's spotted her while you're there, but I need you to get word to our Frankish friend. Have him come here immediately - we can use his help in this search."

Nojiko's tears eased as she frowned in confusion at Arlong's plan.

"Do you really believe Nami would go to Normandy?" Kuroobi asked as Arlong began to walk back to his house.

Arlong snorted. "Of course not," he said, turning to grin maliciously at Nojiko. "There's no chance she would ever step foot on her father's land. No matter how desperate she may be. She would rather rot in their Christian hell than run to the people that destroyed the life she should have known. Isn't that right, Nojiko?"

"No!" she cried out. "I swear it! She went to Normandy! It was her only hope for protection!"

Arlong cackled. "Such a worthless lie!" He waved his hand and she screamed out as another lash sliced her. "We'll search to the north," he declared, holding his hand up to stop Kuroobi from striking again. "Nojiko says south, and so my gut says north. I hear there is a king in Oslofjord who might even take an interest in someone like her. Surely she sought the protection of one of her own kind."

"No!" Nojiko screamed again as Arlong went back into his hall, laughing over her cries. "Leave her alone! She isn't yours to claim!"

Her cries went unheeded, but at least the lashing was over. She was left there to sob for another hour before Hachi came to collect her, another man within Arlong's inner circle. The warrior wasn't so old, yet his coarse, wavy hair had turned grey long ago. He was another giant with strength her people could never imagine, who carried two swords over his back and an axe at his belt. He scared Nami and herself when they were children, but compared to the rest, he was the most tolerable.

"Come on," he said softly as he undid her shackles. She fell into his arms, too exhausted to stand. The rest of the village had long disappeared into their homes, and most of Arlong's men had grown bored with her tears quickly enough. "Arlong's told me to feed and bandage you."

"Why not just kill me?" she asked, tears flooding her eyes. She didn't want to die, not yet. She couldn't.

"Because that would upset Nami," Hachi answered easily, as she knew he would. He grinned down at her as he scooped her up. "Don't worry. We'll find her and bring her back. Safe and sound."

She cried out her despair for the rest of the night.

That was the very thing she worried about most.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I feel so bad for doing that to Nojiko. So terrible. Especially after all the fluff and happiness Nami gets. But seriously, this is not a good time for anyone to be alive. Bad things will happen to everyone at some point._

 _And yes, I'm making up some OCs for Kid's crew in this. I hope you like them. :)_

 _And no one has guessed right to who will be living in Alasund. I gave hints in the last chapter (think the reason they're taking a bunch of oak there), and the best hint I can give from the pictures of the town would be the appearance of the inner harbor. You'll find out who's there in the next chapter, though._


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Setting Out_

The sun hadn't even crested the horizon that day when Kid came storming into her room, bellowing commands that she get out of bed. She didn't respond fast enough, attempted to burrow under her blankets, so Kid tore the bedding away with another brusque command and a threat that if she didn't get up immediately he would cart her to the docks in her bed clothes and toss her into the river again.

She threw a pillow at his head, but grudgingly dragged herself out of bed. Kid didn't make idle threats, after all.

Once he was satisfied that she was up and preparing for the voyage, he went stomping out to shout more orders at his men in the hall. For a man who never woke before the sun, he was surprisingly energetic at such an early hour. Even as she dressed, she could hear Kid's deep voice barking and snapping at thralls to make breakfast, for the men to start loading their war chests onto the ships, and for people to get out of his way as he saw to his home and village's security in his absence. He was impatient, wishing to leave at first light. She even heard him threaten to leave Finn behind when the teenager wasn't moving as quickly as Kid felt he should.

Nami rolled her eyes and hoped his mood lightened once they were out to sea.

Out in the main room, the men were shoveling their breakfasts into their mouths between sporadic bits of conversation. Kid wasn't anywhere to be found, but Killer informed her of his errands around the village to see that the men left behind understood their duties, as well as swinging by the docks to double check the ships were ready to go. He came back as Nami was finishing her breakfast while Gunda stood behind her and braided her hair. He shot them a terse frown on his way by, let out a huff of impatient annoyance, and continued off to their rooms in the back. Minutes later he was back, carrying the chest she packed with dresses and extra trousers, tunics, and a set of leather armor the smith help fit for her in case Kid let her go to England. He snapped another command at her to hurry up.

She was tempted to shove him into the fjord once they set out for his rude attitude.

Kid finally sat down to eat once their gear was loaded. The entire time he dug into the meat and porridge in front of him, he growled under his breath about the women taking too long with their hair. Gunda was just tying off the last braid running over Nami's scalp and was beginning to sweep the rest up into a high tail at the back of her head. Nami reached over and smacked Kid on the back of the head to silence the grouchy Jarl's next remarks. She didn't even flinch when he snarled at her for it.

But she knew not to test his temper further, and hurried to braid Gunda's hair for her while the servants cleared the last of their breakfast. It was a good thing she did, because Kid looked about ready to toss her over his shoulder and haul her to the ship by the time she was done pinning up the long braid in a bun atop Gunda's head.

She and Kid bickered the whole way to the ships, the Jarl prodding her in the back with his round shield to rush her along, while she snapped and slapped at him in a vain attempt to get him to back off. He was truly begging to be shoved overboard for his behavior. Fortunately, he did begin to calm down once he was settled in place by the steering oar of his new ship, all his men aboard with their shields mounted on the wale, and Nami sitting nearby with her shieldmaiden at her side.

As he stopped snarling, Nami shook off her irritation and allowed herself to feel excited for the voyage. She hadn't been so eager to set out to sea since she was a child and Jarl Genzo brought her onto his ship to sail to Hedeby. It was a quick trip to visit another Jarl and make some trades, but it was the same as venturing off to a new world she had never imagined could exist. After Arlong came to her village, she was rarely taken out to sea, her new Jarl preferring to hoard her away in his hall. The first time he took her away, it was on a raid along the Frankish coast, and Nami attempted to run away while the Jarl and his men were razing a village to the ground. In a foreign land, filled with people who held little care for invaders from the north, Nami had quickly found herself in trouble when a young lord seized her as a captive. She was forced to march through mud and stone with no shoes, her feet bloody and blistered, behind his horse, with ropes bound tight around her arms, until Arlong finally found her.

As miserable as the march had been, she still screamed and cried when the Frankish man and his soldiers were brutally cut down. Watching the lord's head roll across the ground, lifeless blue eyes seemingly fixed on her, haunted her worst nightmares for months afterward. She never ran away from camp again the rare times Arlong took her along on his raids. Anything to spare herself from further trauma.

While she was disappointed that she might not get to see the British Islands, she was still excited to be venturing to the western coast of Noreg. She had heard stories of the islands and fjords that made up the coastline, with hills and mountains unlike any she had seen in her homeland. Just picturing it made her hands itch with a need to draw out a map. She wished Kid had clean parchment in his hall, but it was a rare commodity in the north. Maybe if she was lucky she would find some in the village they were going to, or perhaps she could convince Kid to find some in his raids. His curiosity might be in her favor then. Surely he would want to see one of her charts for himself.

They set off with the beach and docks lined with the villagers that wouldn't be going on the expedition. Wives and children, men too injured or old; they all waved and cheered as the longships and knarrs pushed away from the docks. They knew that some of them might not return. Between the dangers of sailing over the northern seas and those found in battle with the Saxons, no one could ever know for certain if they would see their friends and family again. And while they hoped all would return safe, they also hoped that any they lost had the fortune to fall in battle so they might find their way to Odin's great hall, to drink endless mead as they awaited the final battle at the end of their world.

The journey to Álasund was expected to take a full day, barring no rough weather slowed their journey. The men took to the oars to steer the ships through the fjord, out into the Skaggerak where they took a break to let the winds move them over the rolling seas. The day was clear, the winds and currents in their favor as they traveled south, always keeping the shore just within sight. Nami still kept a weather eye on the horizon. She nearly drowned sailing through the strait, and out in the open northern seas the dangers would only increase.

"How far did that old Jarl of yours take you sailing?" Kid called to her late in the morning after putting his men to the oars again. The wind had changed course and slowed their ships, but Nami told them to turn the ships to the port, away from the coast, where they might catch a better current with more favorable winds. As the sails filled and the ships gathered better speed, some men pulled their oars to check the lines and adjust the sails, and Kid grinned at her from the stern.

"Genzo only took me as far as Hedeby. I was still a child at that time," she answered. "Arlong took me further south, to the Frankish coasts when he went raiding."

"You said he means to wage a war on them, and the other Christians," Kid mused. "If you were the key to his success, why didn't he launch his attack then?"

"I was too young," she said, pursing her lips in thought. Arlong's ambitions were convoluted and impossible to achieve, no matter what he thought. "He said when the time was right, we would invade and conquer them."

Kid snorted, his gaze casting over the seas as they talked. "Doesn't sound like he had any plan at all. Bunch of talk, no action. Probably happy to sit on his ass, milking your village and people for all they were worth."

She looked away with a terse frown, focusing on the western horizon and the endless expanse of sea before them. Kid wasn't wrong in his assertion, but he didn't have the whole story, and Nami wasn't inclined to share it.

"Did he even have an idea of where to begin his attacks? Paris is heavily fortified; he'd need more than the strength of a Jotunn to lay siege on them now. The Franks have their weak points, but he'd be a fool if he underestimated them," Kid continued.

"He planned to start with Normandy," was all she said, her tone sharp to signal she didn't care to discuss that topic further, though she knew Kid wouldn't likely let it rest. "All his raids were in preparation for it. He's gathered a great deal of information on the coasts and rivers of the area, and intends to dismantle the Duchy from within."

"From within?" Kid's brow rose, unbridled curiosity in the expression, but Nami had found her escape from the subject as the wind changed once more.

She stood without a word to lean over the wale, casting her eye over the northwestern horizon, up into the skies. White clouds gently floated overhead, slowing billowing into thicker plumes.

"We need to get further from the coast," Nami said. "Angle the ships to face northwest and reef the sails."

"Storm coming?" Kid grunted, frowning at her and then the horizon she was looking toward. His eyes narrowed, but he gave a short nod and echoed her commands to the rest of the crew.

Nami didn't hesitate to help with the sail, unwilling to sit idle in the face of a storm. It didn't feel like it would be a long one, at least, but the ocean would swell and roll their ships too close to shore for comfort if they remained where they were. They were already far enough out that they should be safe, but if the winds changed more than she was expecting them to, they could find themselves run aground.

While their lead ship made their adjustments, Killer leaned out to hale the other ships from his position at the prow, sending out a series of short blasts on a horn to get their attention. Wire had command of one of the skeids, Hróarr another, while the knarrs were commanded by Axel and Halle further back. More horns called out between the ships and the fleet adjusted, following their ship's lead.

Once Nami felt they were in a safe position, even though the skies still hadn't given more sign of a storm, the men took to their chests and oars to secure themselves for rough weather. Kid stayed at the stern, glowering up at the skies. He seemed to be doubting her forecast, but before he could voice it, the initial squall came. His eyes widened as the winds grew stronger and the rolling clouds of a storm became visible; a dark, angry mass reaching high into the sky.

Their fleet was first enveloped in a chilly rain while the persisting winds battered at their sails. The men pulled up their cloaks to fight off the waters pelting them, and Nami could tell they wanted to hunker down, wait out the storm, but they all kept their eyes on her and their Jarl. She clung to the lines as the ship began to pitch and roll, the sea swelling and churning around them. The storm was changing rapidly. The skies turned black, and lightning split overhead with a loud roar. The steady rain turned into an angry torrent of stinging drops only made worse as the winds and sea crashed against the ship. Nami let go of the lines and headed toward Kid.

"Furl the sails," she called over the crash of thunder and sea. He glared at her. "I'll steer the ship."

"This is my ship," he argued.

"And you trust me to navigate it, right?" she yelled. "So help furl the sails. We need to turn further south; the northern tail of the storm is growing too strong. We'll have to ride it out until it clears."

He growled down at her, but with a short huff, he gave her a nod and let her take the steering oar while he stomped off to handle the sails. He barked out orders at his men to help turn the ship and then secure their oars. The storm was too loud to call to the other ships, but Killer still made an effort to signal the change. They just had to trust that each commander took notice, either of their adjustments, or the increasing severity of the storm, and moved as they needed.

Once they were in position and the crew had hunkered down to ride out the storm, Kid moved back to the stern and settle onto his fur covered chest beside her. He scowled as he pulled his cloak higher. Strands of sodden hair had fallen from its tail with the raging winds and clung to his temples and forehead. He looked annoyed again.

"The storms should roll through quickly," Nami reassured loudly.

"How'd you know they were coming?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"The wind shifted."

"I didn't feel it," he grumbled, so quiet she almost didn't hear.

Nami giggled at his frustration and sat down with him, using his larger frame to block out the worst of the spray. When he noticed, his scowl deepened.

"It wasn't a big change, just a drop in temperature and a change in shear. I felt the pressure in the air shift, too," Nami explained.

Kid's expression looked skeptical for a moment, then thoughtful. "You didn't see it coming? Like your dreams?"

She shook her head. "It's not like that. I've always noticed changes in the weather, especially out at sea. Genzo said it was my gift as a sailor." She couldn't help but smile at the memory. "I can find sea currents that others can't know about unless they lived below the surface."

He still looked doubtful, but it broke with a snort and a nudge of his shoulder. "And you're really not related to Rán or Aegir?"

"There are more gods associated with the ocean and sailing than the sea giants," Nami laughed. "You'll be guessing forever at this rate."

Kid eyed her closely, as though he were trying to join the pieces of a puzzle. She could see him thinking, considering all he knew.

"Gifts of prophecy and magic, blessed with skills to sail the seas…" He chuckled as he leaned against her. "I'll narrow it down eventually. Ruling out the Jotunn… I'm going to bet on one of the Vanir being the start of your lineage."

She tried not to show her surprise at the guess that in fact brought him closer to the truth, but she knew he noticed her eyes widen and jaw clench. He laughed, the sound carrying over the storm.

"I'm a lot smarter than I look," he teased.

"I should have pushed you overboard when I had the chance," she muttered half-heartedly. He only laughed louder. "I told you that the little you know, the better."

"I can keep a secret," he said with an unwavering grin. She didn't believe that one bit, not with how much his men liked to gossip. She was certain he wasn't any different. He wound an arm around her and patted her on the head. "I swear. If it's a secret that could put you in danger, I'll keep it entirely for myself. Won't even tell Killer."

"I'll believe that when I see it," she huffed. "I'm still not telling you."

Kid squeezed her tight against his side, chuckling quietly. "That's fine. I'm enjoying the guessing game." He paid no mind to her glare. Glancing up, he frowned at the sky as the rain began to slow and the storm clouds turned to a lighter grey. "Storm's already letting up."

"It's just a lull. If we were further north, we'd still be in the middle of the larger gales. We should see another line coming right behind this one." Nami squinted through the rain at the tendrils of lightning in the distance. "After that we should be safe for a while."

Kid hummed. "We made good time this morning." He shot her a hard look. "Even after some people took far too long to get ready." She rolled her eyes and ignored the comment. "If it clears soon, we'll move back toward the coast and row a while."

"Are all the ships in sight?"

"I saw the knarrs before I came over, and one of the longships was close. I couldn't spot the other through the rain," he explained. "We'll wait for all the ships to come together again, check for damages, then carry on, but we can't wait too long. As long as they didn't get disoriented in this weather, they all know the way. They'll catch up."

The winds picked up again as they spoke, and Kid hissed as salt water sprayed over them, biting out a curse. He hunkered down, pulling closer to her as he drew his furs up higher to keep them shielded from the worst of the spray. She had been holding steady to the steering oar as she sat with him, dividing her attention between Kid and the weather. She would need to stand again soon to see that she hadn't lost her bearings, but with the cold northern rains and spray, the heat from Kid's body was a welcome relief. The whole crew, even her shieldmaiden, all looked miserable as they tried to keep warm, huddling with anyone near to share body heat, but she doubted any of them were as warm as their Jarl. Kid was almost as comforting as a roaring fire.

They settled into an easy silence as the storm carried on. When Nami stood to sweep her gaze over the open waters, searching for the other ships or signs they might have been carried too far from shore, she immediately regretted her decision to leave the warmth of Kid's side. Her own cloak hardly provided her the same protection she had sitting with Kid on his war chest.

By the time the storms passed, the sun was lowering toward the west, barely visible through the persisting thin clouds behind the storms, signaling the late hour of the afternoon. Kid had taken over steering again before the storms were through, letting Nami rest after the currents tried to take the ship too far off her course. As the seas settled, Nami helped Killer search for signs of the other ships. One knarr was still close and rowed in to wait. Not long after they spied one of the longships, trailed by the second knarr. Wire's ship was the last to find them, and looked to have endured the worst damages.

A torn sail, shredded line, and broken rigging crippled the ship, but they could easily be repaired once they reached Álasund.

"We'll row a few hours," Kid decided. "Then cast a line to the other ship to tow her behind us if the wind's in our favor. Once we spot land, we'll camp for the night so I can take a better look at the rigging. Might be able to patch the sail and get her going without needing to tow her the last leg of the journey."

With the orders relayed, Nami directed them back toward the coast and a course that allowed the knarrs' sails to keep from falling behind the longships' rowers. The men on the longships took shifts at the oars, even Kid and Killer, until the sun fell low on the horizon. As their course took a more northerly route, the coast slowly began to dissolve into deep fjords with rolling hills, and in the distance Nami could spot the white caps of mountains. Islands could be found in the mouths of the fjords, some small, others large, all covered with lush grass and trees.

As night drew near, Kid turned their fleet toward a small archipelago. The islands circled around each other, at points so close, a person could swim between them with hardly any effort. Kid chose a beach with rising hills on either side of a narrow strait, providing their ships shelter should another storm find them. The beach was flat and silty, allowing them to pull the longships onto shore. The knarrs stayed in the shallows, tied off to trees where the sand turned into rich soil and thin, rocky forests.

The men went about setting up a small camp in the trees, three separate fires for everyone to sit around and warm themselves after a rough day at sea, and furs from their chests piled nearby as beds. Kid set to work on mending the broken ship, growling and cursing to himself while the rest of his men began to eat a meager supper of rations. By the time he was done, or at least had given up for the night, everyone had eaten and were settling into raucous conversations as they passed around the few skins of ale brought for the journey.

Nami was too weary to sit with the men, and took to the small fur bed she made for herself a few paces from the main camp where they could take shelter under the branches of a hazel tree. Gunda gathered wood so they could have their own fire, allowing them to take advantage of the bit of privacy they found from the men to shed their sea soaked clothes and let them dry. Wrapped up in a wool blanket, Nami attempted to comb out the tangles and frizz in her hair, while Gunda cleaned and sharpened their weapons.

"I will stay awake and keep watch tonight," Gunda said when Nami yawned wide and burrowed into her blanket. "You sleep."

"You need your rest, too," Nami said.

"If the last of the journey is calm, I can rest on the ship in the morning."

Nami frowned at her shieldmaiden and then followed her line of sight as she stared off at the men. "Don't trust them to behave out here?"

"I trust them well enough, but a woman is foolish to blindly believe the best in every man. They are still men," Gunda said frankly, quickly casting her gaze to her dried clothes when Kid stood from his fire and began to saunter toward them. She gathered up her tunic and trousers. "I'm going to dress, and then you can sleep."

Nami smiled and nodded as she ducked behind one of the trees, and then turned to glower at Kid. He returned the look as he crouched beside her.

"Why aren't you sitting with the others?" he grunted.

"Because we're drying out our clothes and trying to get some rest," Nami huffed, drawing her blanket tight around her shoulders. "How does the ship look?"

Kid shrugged. "I changed the shredded line with new rope. The rigging should hold until Álasund. The sail still needs to be closed up. Think you can do that for me in the morning?" She nodded, and he gave her a thankful, albeit tired smile in response. "Doesn't have to be perfect, just close it enough that it'll catch most of the wind. We'll still tow her if we have to."

"How far are we from Álasund?"

He scratched his jaw in thought. The gesture brought her attention to a patch of red hair attempting to grow in, just enough to give him a line of scruff down his jaw. He would likely shave it off once they reached Álasund. Unlike most of the men who preferred to keep trim beards, Kid had no patience for facial hair and preferred a clean jaw. He complained that the coarse hairs chaffed his skin.

"Half a day," he guessed. "Good conditions, we ought to reach it by mid-day, maybe early evening if we run into another line of storms. You have any predictions on the weather?"

She shook her head. "Only that it might rain tonight, but I can't predict a storm out at sea until shortly before it builds. The weather is too dynamic out there to know what to expect."

"Guess that's true," he mused, and then stood with a groan. "Get some rest, then. Could have been a lot worse today if you hadn't seen that storm coming. I expect you at your best tomorrow."

She openly gloated at the praise, bringing a short bark of laughter from Kid. He reached down to pat her head. Unable to ruffle her hair with the braids still tied along her scalp, he gave her head a playful shove before turning back toward the men, wordlessly leaving her to sleep.

Gunda returned from the trees then to grab her belt and sword. As she took up a seat on a mossy rock near the fire, Nami went off to slip back into her dress before returning to crawl under her blanket and furs. Kid and his men were still awake and laughing as they drank, much to Nami's surprise. With how tired she was, she expected many of them to be taking an opportunity to get some sleep before they set off again. They were the ones who had to do all the rowing, after all. But even with their laughter echoing through the trees, Nami's eyes grew heavy and sleep claimed her with ease, undisturbed by the activity of the camp.

She was met with the sound of rain in her dreams. A soft patter of droplets striking the leaves above her drew her gaze up and up and up at the great tree that loomed over her. Branches climbed into a rain darkened sky, disappeared into the clouds, and seemed to reach out forever, far over the horizon to vanish out of sight. Water dripped from its branches to splash into a lake at the tree's roots. Roots she stood on.

The tree seemed to her at a distance as she gazed at its trunk, but it was so large, its canopy and roots spread so wide, she still felt encompassed in its world. Her feet took her closer, through swirling swaths of fog, over dew damp roots. Her dress trailed in the water of the lake, sending ripples out and away to lick at the sides of more tangled roots.

She was alone there. She was at peace there. Even as she heard the distant howls of wolves that other nights would frighten her from her dreams. Those dreams would not touch her there, she was sure.

When she finally reached the base of the mighty tree, Nami tilted her head back to once more gaze up and up and up into those towering branches. Beside the thick trunk, following it up into the clouds, the tree only seemed to grow taller before her very eyes.

She blinked away the water as it splashed down on her face, cool and refreshing. More droplets sprinkled over her, and she shut her eyes to soak in the sweet smell of fresh rain falling on evergreen leaves.

 _She sees naught_ , a harsh voice whispered, impatient and peevish.

Nami snapped her attention from the tree to look around. She had been alone. She swore she had been alone. She searched around the trunk, in the crevasses of the winding roots, everywhere she could see from where she stood. She found no one else there.

 _She sees naught,_ another voice whispered, a little kinder, saddened.

Nami searched again, for the source of the voices, or whatever it was she had failed to see. She was still alone.

 _No, she sees one_ , a third voice whispered, calm and collected, filled with wisdom. _She sees blood._

Nami's eyes widened a moment, and then she doubled her efforts to search out the voices. They were talking about her. She knew they were.

She placed her hand on the enormous, ancient tree, and carefully stepped from root to root, leaping over great spans. She went around the tree, and around again. Searching high and searching low. She found nothing, and went 'round again.

She stopped when she finally found something, though she doubted it was the source of her voices. A few steps from the tree's base stood a spear in the water. The lone spear hadn't been there before. She surely would have noticed it jutting out from the endless depths of the lake. Her heart quivered in her chest as she stared at the weapon, waiting for someone to come for it, for something to happen. But it continued to stand there, motionless and alone.

She went to it.

Balancing upon the length of a root, she drew in closer, until the root dove into the lake and she couldn't walk anymore without fear of falling in. The spear was old, its wood shaft worn and stained with its age. Its iron point was painted orange and red with rust.

She saw a flash of her wolf's eyes as she stared at the corroded metal. Brief and fleeting, gone before she could fear for him.

The water rippled around the spear, and Nami gazed down to see a length of rope floating gently around the shaft. She had a feeling she should know what she was seeing, a sense of familiarity overtaking her, but she couldn't understand what this vision meant.

 _She sees naught_ , the harsh voice whispered.

 _She sees naught_ , the kind voice echoed.

She waited for the third to give her own voice of wisdom, but there was a pause as Nami blinked away a droplet of water that ran down into her eye. Her gaze followed up the shaft, to the iron tip. The rust looked redder. She blinked again, clearing her vision. The rust was redder, still.

 _She sees blood_ , the wise voice finally said, quiet and awestruck.

A flash of a man hanging from the tree came to her then. As brief and fleeting as the vision of her wolf's eyes. The man was old, with thick grey-white beard, but strong. He hung for days and days, with a spear piercing his body. He didn't die, but he hung over that precipice as he gazed into the waters beneath him. He was searching. Seeing. Desiring answers and knowledge as his crimson blood dripped down into the lake.

He was no man. He was a god.

He was gone when Nami blinked again, only the spear and ropes remained.

Confused, Nami glanced around again. There had to be more. She had to have missed something.

She looked up at the tree, squinting through the boughs. She saw something, carvings within the bark, a striking yellow against dark brown. Once she saw the first, high up in the tree, her gaze cast down and down and down the length and took in endless runes carved into the trunk. She didn't understand them. Hadn't seen them before. Her hand had even been on the trunk, but she never felt them.

 _She sees naught_ , echoed around her, just as harsh.

 _She sees…._ The sad voice trailed off as Nami's gaze fell to one rune among many. One rune she knew.

 _Death_ , the wise voice said, still patient, albeit laced with a solemn sigh.

Nami's blood ran cold.

 _She fears blood. She fears death,_ the angry voice hissed.

 _So she sees blood. She sees death_ , the kinder one sighed.

The last hummed, agreeing with the other two. _But there is so much more._

More? There was more? Nami searched the tree again. She searched the runes until her eyes stung. She felt her gaze pulled back to the spear, and blood-red rust.

 _We weave but one, but we are given much_ , the wise voice said, calm and patient. _Thread can be cut. Can be woven anew. One rune, one word, can join with another, and another. New meaning can be had. Nothing is resolute._

 _Nothing but death_ , the crotchety voice huffed, unhelpfully. _And that is all she sees._

 _She will see more_ , the wise one chided.

As Nami listened to their words echo again, the same conversation circling her mind, over and over, she stared at the spear and the water. He had been there searching for something, for meaning, for clarity, for knowledge. What had he found in the well?

She heard the wings of a bird flap above her, the caw of a crow, and then another. She didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the iron tip as the rust began to bleed.

 _She sees blood. She sees death._

Wolves cried, one after another, their howls distant but growing louder.

She crouched down on the root as the rust trickled down the shaft. The first drop touched the water, and swirled out on a current. The red twisted and curled, billowed and thinned. The hollowing filled her ears, but she could still hear the voices, just over her shoulder, a hollow weight on her back.

 _She sees blood._ _She sees death._

The red veins running through the water took shape. A great pack of wolves, snarling and howling, running at their prey. She was afraid, frozen there as she watched another plume of red coalesce into a mighty army. Giants. Angry and frothing and undeterred by the beasts before them.

They collided in a great swirl of crimson. Fangs and fingers tearing into one another. The water was stained with the blood of the spear's rust until two figures emerged.

 _No,_ she gasped to herself. She didn't want the dream again. Not there.

 _She fears it,_ the annoyed voice hissed, burning in her ear. _She cannot move if she fears._

She remembered the feeling of helplessness in her dream as she watched the blood red giant reach for the wolf, heedless of its snapping jaws. Even as she knew what would happen, she was frozen, cold with terror. How could she change it? How could she stop it? He was too strong. And death could not be changed.

 _She cannot move. She will not move,_ the kind voice said, a saddened sigh tickling the back of her neck.

Move? She could not move. But she must.

Fingers curled over her shoulders, bony with age. They gripped her as she reached out. Careful. Slow. With trembling a hand. The water bit her, it was so cold, but she kept reaching.

 _Move,_ the wise voice urged. _That is it._

When her fingers touched the streams of red, they broke apart, and her eyes widened as she watched the wolf reform to one side, the giant to another. She was surprised. Was it really so easy?

 _Nothing is ever easy. Nothing can be gained without something lost,_ whispered in her ear.

The figures launched to attack again, but with her hand in the way, their battle clashed against her skin. She tried to cry out as she felt blade and tooth carve into her flesh, but her voice did not come. She tried to pull her hand back, but the red wound about her fingers, up her wrist. A thread made of razors. Biting and cutting and slashing.

 _Life requires great sacrifice,_ the voices told her as the thread climbed up her arm, and their fingers dug painfully into her shoulders, pushing her toward the water. She finally cried out as she felt her blood burn through her veins. _You must pay the price. You must move._

The thread pulled at her at the same time it cut her skin. More red swirled through the water in front of her. Her own blood. It flowed and circled and grabbed hold of her, too. She felt it dragging her down, dragging her under. She tried to fight against it, clawing at the thread, but only found more blood staining her hands. She felt as though her arm was about to be torn off as pain lanced through her shoulder.

 _Move_ , a voice urged.

 _Move_.

 _Move_.

She woke with a start, bolting upright as she grasped her left arm. The pain lingered long enough to make her think she was injured, but as she tugged at the sleeve of her dress, she found no wounds or blood. The pain began to fade as she breathed in deeply and forced herself to relax. She shut her eyes, glad when she was only met with darkness, not more visions, and took another deep breath, willing her heart to calm as she let it out.

Movement nearby startled her, and she opened her eyes to find Kid and Gunda crouched on either side of her, hovering over her. It had been raining as she slept. The fires had guttered out, but she could make out their expressions in the faint light of the moon seeping through the clouds. Gunda was worried. Kid looked unhappy but his frown said he was concerned, too.

"Just a dream," she croaked, shutting her eyes again. Her heart was still clamoring against her ribs, and her hands would be shaking if they weren't digging into the blanket and her arm.

She heard Kid hum in annoyance, knowing very well it wasn't a simple dream. He moved, shifted closer. She felt the blankets move, and she snapped open her eyes at the same time as she pushed at his arm to stop him from laying down with her.

"It's fine, Kid," she said, shoving at him as she flung the blankets off. "I need to go walk around a bit."

"I'll join you," he insisted.

"No," she snapped as she stood. "I need to clear my thoughts, and I can't do that with you hovering."

"I'm not hovering," he said, standing up beside her, _hovering_.

She glared. "It wasn't the same dream. It was a different one." Her answer didn't please him, so she forced a smile. "I'm fine, Kid. You have no reason to worry about me. Go back to the men." His annoyance didn't wane, and he crossed his arms stubbornly. She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not going far. Just along the beach. I'll be back once I've calmed down." He moved aside as she pushed by him, but looked prepared to follow after her, despite her wishes. She shot him a hard look. " _Stay._ "

He growled at the command, but grudgingly threw himself down onto her furs. He would let her walk alone, but he would still remain in their part of the camp until he was satisfied she hadn't seen the same nightmare that haunted her. She left him to wait. She would deal with his obstinacy when she returned.

She made her way through the trees to the beach, passing by their ships, away from the camp. Her mind was still circling the possible meaning of her dream. She understood bits of it – the voices, the figure that once hung from the boughs, the spear, the blood. What she didn't understand was how it all fit together.

She walked through the silt lining the small beach, feeling her feet sink into the sand as the strait lapped at the sediment. The sea was cold, but kept her centered in her world, her realm, reminded her that she was awake. The smell of salt in the air surrounded her, the scent missing from the freshwater well around the roots of the tree. The smell of fresh rain still remained, but it felt different, real, not as old as the rains washing over the ancient evergreen.

She hadn't gone far before she heard the scrape of shoe on stone and the snap of a twig, just behind her and up the beach in the forest growing at the edge of the sand. She sighed. He just refused to leave her alone.

"I hope you're better at tracking your prey on the hunt," she called out, "otherwise you and your men might never eat. You might as well walk with me if you're going to be this stubborn."

A throat cleared. "I'm sorry, my lady."

Nami jumped in surprise and whirled around to find Gunda peeking out from behind a slender birch. The shieldmaiden wore a bashful smile.

"I did not want you walking alone out here," she explained. "It isn't safe. And I feel you could do with some company after your dream."

Nami sighed again, defeated at the kindness in the older woman's eyes. Her intentions were beyond reproach. "I suppose you're right." She frowned in thought as Gunda relaxed and came to her side. As Nami turned back to her walk, the shieldmaiden silently fell in step with her. "Perhaps you can help me decipher my dream."

"Decipher? Was it so strange?"

Nami nodded. "It was different than the other." Gunda, like Kid's men, had been informed of Nami's foresight, though she still kept the details of her regular nightmares to herself. Only Kid knew of that vision, and what men he deigned share it with. Gunda only knew she had the same foretelling nightmare, just not the subject or end of it. "This dream was…" She trailed off to stare thoughtfully over the ocean. "I was beneath the branches of Yggdrasil."

"The world tree?" Gunda asked, surprise lacing her voice.

"The Norns were trying to show me something, or maybe teach me something. I'm not sure. They kept saying I couldn't see, or that I could only see one thing. They said I was afraid. That I couldn't move because of my fear." Nami huffed in a fleeting moment of irritation. "And how can I not be afraid? If all one sees is blood and death, how can you expect them to be anything but scared?" She kicked at the water. Gunda made no comment, patiently waiting for Nami to continue. "There was a spear. And for a brief moment I saw Odin, as he had been when he hung himself from the branches as a sacrifice. After that, I was able to see the runes carved into the tree, but I couldn't understand all of them." She let out a heavy breath. She decided against sharing the nightmare that came to the dream before she woke. As frightening and painful as that had been, it wasn't the point of her confusion. Not entirely. "All I ever see is blood and death."

Gunda remained silent save for a gentle hum.

"They said they are given much, but weave only one," Nami said after a while of fruitless thinking.

"From what I have been told since I was little, the whole fate of the nine realms is written upon the trunk of Yggdrasil, carried to every world in its branches and roots. Some tales claim they weave destiny, others that they carve it. I suppose what they said means it might be both." Gunda's lips pursed with thought. "They say a man's destiny can be altered depending on what choices he makes, what paths he follows. What is woven are the results of his choices. If we think of the carvings on a tree as one's fate, then the branches are points where fate can lead one way or another, and when one branch is followed, his destiny will follow it until he reaches another branch, another choice."

Nami stopped walking. "So… what I'm seeing is merely one destiny based upon one choice, one branch?"

They had told her to move. They had told her that thread could be cut and rewoven. They had told her that runes can be joined with other runes and new meaning could come from the joining. Were they truly trying to say she could change it, take Kid's fate to a new path, a new branch, and create a different destiny?

But they had also said that nothing can be gained without something lost, and she had seen Odin hanging there, teasing death, as a sacrifice to gain the knowledge he sought. She felt the fiery pain licking down her arm, saw her blood flow into the water. If she moved as they urged her to, she would have to give something of herself, she would have to make her own sacrifice to change what she had seen.

She clutched her scarred shoulder and the phantom pain that came with the thought of her dream.

She didn't know what she might have to give up, feared that unknown sacrifice.

But if she could move, she would. She refused to let anyone else die for her.

* * *

Kid nearly cursed when he stepped on that dumb twig, but he bit his cheek and thanked the gods when Gunda stepped out. He had let her go off to keep an eye on Nami in the first place. He had intended to remain at camp and wait for her, but he hardly lasted one heartbeat before he was stalking after the women.

He believed her when she said it wasn't the same dream that plagued her, but he didn't like being brushed off. Not when pain had been twisting her expression before she finally dragged herself from the dream. That dream was certainly different, but it was dangerous all the same. This time dangerous for her, and he willfully cursed the gods for toying with her mind. He didn't care to what purpose or end they were acting on, he still didn't like seeing her suffer. She was his ward for the time being. She was his to protect. He wouldn't let harm come to her. Even if it came to her in a dream, he would find a way to fight it back.

He took greater care following the women as they spoke of the dream Nami had. He didn't know what to make of it any more than Nami seemed to, though the image of Odin gave him pause. Odin had sacrificed himself in such a way to learn the secrets of the runes, to learn the magic held within. He had to bleed and starve and waste away, nearly die, before he gained the answers he sought. The Norns obviously were trying to impart some lesson or wisdom on Nami, and Kid rankled at the idea they expected some great sacrifice from her in exchange for it.

Seeing her in pain, seeing her clutch at her arm, her fingers digging into the broken mark binding her, he knew they had tried to take something from her in that dream. If they didn't, then they surely would one day.

And if that day came, he would face them, just as he would face Nami's giant.

He spun away from the women when Nami sat down on the beach to silently stare off at the waters and nearby island of the archipelago. She was deep in thought, and he doubted he would glean anything more of her dream. He went back to their camp and settled on her bed to wait for her return, arms crossed behind his head as he glowered up at the cloudy sky. The rain had stopped and cleared long enough to show a sliver of moonlight, but the grey wisps were returning, and he knew it would likely rain more before dawn. He didn't need Nami's gifts to know that.

After a while, he shut his eyes and didn't open them again until he heard the scuff of her steps through the rocks and twigs beneath the trees. He opened one eye to see her glaring at him, and pointedly shut his eye again to tell her he wasn't going anywhere, whether she liked it or not. Her dreams didn't torment her when he was with her, so he'd stay at her side.

"I'm not going to sleep again tonight," Nami huffed as she threw herself onto the furs. He could hear someone attempting to light a fire, he guessed it was Gunda. They must have collected new kindling, though he doubted they would get much of a flame from the damp twigs and leaves.

"You should at least try," he grunted back.

"It's fine. I don't need any more sleep," she bit out stubbornly. "Just go back to your men."

He growled at her orders and rolled to his side, making himself more comfortable in her bed. "I'm fine here."

"Stubborn oaf," she muttered under her breath.

He snorted. Blindly grasping, he found her blanket and pulled it over himself. She wasn't going to make him leave, so he might as well enjoy a short rest before dawn.

"You owe me more gold if you're sleeping in my bed."

She couldn't see him roll his eyes behind his eyelids. Greedy woman. He was certain she could find just about any reason to level a fine against a man.

"Well, I better steal a large trove while I'm in England," he said. "At this rate, you'll charge me for every silver and gold coin I have just for breathing in your general direction."

"Maybe I should," she quipped.

He couldn't help but smile, unwilling to take that threat seriously. He opened his eyes to look at her only to find her back to him as she watched Gunda finally get some of the kindling to take a flame. The smell of burning leaves and damp wood permeated the air and mixed with the scent of impending rain. That fire wouldn't last long, but it would keep them warm for the time being.

Then he noticed Nami's hand still clutching at her shoulder, idly squeezing the limb as though it bothered her.

"What's wrong with your shoulder?" he asked, sitting up to pull her hand away so he might see if she was injured.

"Nothing," she snapped, her response far too quick and frantic for him to believe her. She leaned away from him, and set her eyes in a hard warning.

He frowned at her stubbornness, grabbed her hand away from her shoulder, and pulled her closer. "Turn toward the fire," he ordered, lowering his tone to one he knew she wouldn't argue with. She huffed and grumbled under her breath, but did as he said, angling her shoulder to the scant light given from the small flame. He tugged the strap and shoulder of her dress and shift away, revealing smooth pale skin decorated with the faintest of freckles, but no new injuries. Stubbornly determined to find the source of her discomfort, he kept pulling at her dress, shoving at her shoulder to help slip the wool and linen lower. She smacked at him, but he slapped her hand away. When the blue swirling tattoo and scar slashing through it became visible, Kid sucked in a sharp breath.

"What? What is it?" Nami asked, panicked as she noticed his reaction. She tried to turn to see what he saw, but he held her in place as his fingers grazed over the jagged, gnarled flesh. She stiffened under his touch and her breath hitched. She flinched away when he traced over an angry, red edge of the scar, newly torn and healed.

"Your scar grew," he explained. "It's not bleeding, so it didn't open. It just… grew."

Her scar had cut through part of her mark before, breaking the spell that bound her, but a large portion of the shark had remained. Now the scar looked to be bisecting the fish, cutting off its head. The new scarring was red, fresh, but there was no sign of what had opened it, or that she had even been cut again.

"How can a scar grow?" Nami asked rhetorically in her huffy tone. "It's probably the light playing tricks on your eyes."

No, though he wished it was. That at least was an explanation he could understand, but this had no explanation. He thought to wake Heat, have the healer look at it and surmise some theory of what had happened to her. It might be best to wait until the morning, when it was lighter, so they could see that it wasn't a trick of the light.

"Maybe you forgot what it looked like," Nami continued to reason.

That was even less likely than the first excuse. He had been there when Killer first cleaned and bled the wound, he saw what it looked like then, and he saw it in the days after he handed her to Heat to care for it as she healed. And there were two mornings he had woken in her bed to see the shoulder of her nightclothes slip down, giving him an ample expanse of scarred and tattooed skin to stare at and memorize. He likely knew what it looked like better than she did.

"Heat will look at it before we set off," Kid decided with a quiet grunt. He tugged her dress back into place and smoothed his hand over her shoulder one last time. He laid back down when she didn't argue his decision, watching as she began to rub the mark again. "I have a feeling your dreams will be getting worse, though."

She laughed a pained, tired sound. "As though they can get any worse," she whispered.

He frowned at the unease her remark brought to him. He hoped the content of the dreams didn't get worse. Perhaps more numerous, but he didn't want to think she might see more carnage beyond his death. That seemed to upset her enough. She didn't need more loss weighing on her soul.

Nami slouched by the fire in sullen contemplation, and Kid knew there would be no more discussion of her dreams that night. With a tired grunt, he shut his eyes and left her to ponder the meaning of her latest dream.

He knew he would have to keep a closer eye on her over the next few nights, and wondered how he might do that once they reach Álasund. Nami threw a big enough fit about inciting rumors in their village, she would surely throw a tantrum if he insisted on sharing a bed surrounded by people who knew nothing of his reasons.

He would deal with that battle when it came. And prepare to hand over a large portion of his gold after he won it.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So originally this chapter was going to end with them reaching Alasund, but it got a lot longer than I expected it to, so I'll just dive into the start of that storyline with the next chapter._

 _I summarized a lot of the mythology that went into the dream in this chapter, so I don't feel I need to explain it. Yggdrasil is the tree in Norse myths that holds/connects the nine realms (ex: Asgard, Midgard (Earth), Jotunheim, etc) with its branches. It has three major roots holding it up, all three connecting to different wells. The Well of Urd is where the three Norns live and create man's destiny. Destiny in Norse mythology isn't so cut and dry as the concept of fate in other mythologies and religions, it's in many ways more in line with the concept of Karma - one's fate is determined by one's choices and actions. Also time is cyclical to the Norse. The past, present, and future are all connected to one another, not linear and resolute. Take Ragnarok, for example, the apocalyptic battle at the end of the world - some people and gods do survive, and when the battle is over, they will be the ones to create a new world from the remains of the last. Time and the world will start over again until the next end, and so on and so on._


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Fleeting Thoughts_

They took off from their camp just as dawn began to creep over the horizon. As the sun's rays climbed the distant peaks and hills of the fjord and archipelago, the darkness of the night sky began to recede, replaced by vibrant orange and yellow, and the faintest pink as the thin clouds of the night's rain burned away. Kid was as surly and short tempered as he had been the previous morning, and Nami finally gave into the urge to shove him into the water after he wouldn't stop nagging her to mend the torn sail faster than she was. Whatever peace was to be had that morning was broken at the sound of Kid splashing and cursing in the channel.

She stayed at the prow of the ship for the whole morning, and they both refused to speak to each other until mid-day when Killer and Gunda grew tired of relaying their messages. And after another line of storms began to brew, Nami was forced back to the stern to help navigate the ship until the weather cleared. By the time the storms were little more than a fading drizzle, they had completely forgotten their earlier annoyance with each other.

Nami had become taken with the coast as they sailed further north. Excitement fluttered in her stomach as she stared off at the deeply gouged fjords and the islands and islets that sprinkled around the mouths of each. She wanted to sail into the fjords, follow the narrow straits and rivers until the ships could go no further, and map every hill and sharp cliff she saw. Kid seemed willing to let Nami sit and lean over the wale to watch the scenery pass by in peace until late in the afternoon when he finally bothered to call out to her.

"Up ahead," he yelled when she looked back at him.

She followed his hand as he pointed off to the north where she could spy another chain of islands. She stood, even more excited, and pushed onto her toes as he steered their ship into the strait leading east. The men took to the oars as they passed between large islands, their sharply rising slopes covered in rich green grass and brush. One island rose high to their north, and as they sailed on, she saw the hill gently give way to flat land on its southeast side where she spotted a small farm house surrounded by green pastures.

"Go up to the prow," Kid told her, gesturing toward the front of the ship. "We'll be coming upon it soon."

She didn't argue with him and quickly squeezed between the rowers to stand with Killer at the front of the ship. She smiled wide as he moved to let her hang over the serpentine figurehead, a hand on her back to steady her when the ship dipped forward with a small swell. Another island sat right in front of them with a peaking hill rising on its western edge. Kid steered the ship through the waters to the north, cutting between the last island they passed and the new one until she could see two smaller hills at the northern base of the peak.

She gasped when he turned back to the east and she saw the flat land of the island as it curled around, and finally she could see the whole chain hidden behind the towering hill. The taller island they passed was pressed up against a small flat island to its east, which butted up against yet another island with a short narrow hill rising up and following the length of the island. As she stood on her toes and leaned over the wale to take a closer look to the south, she saw that the first island with its sharp peak wrapped around to run parallel with the other islands, creating a large bay within the chain.

The edge of the first island that curved around the bay was filled with ships and she could see men hard at work building three new longships. She expected Kid to turn south again and follow the channel between the two islands to drop their cargo with the shipyard, but he continued to sail east while his two knarrs turned south with Wire's longship leading the way. She listened to their horns call out to signal the shipbuilders, the sound followed by more horns echoing over the bay in answer.

The second island they passed was covered with small plots of farmland that grew denser toward the east until houses packed around the very edge of the island where harbors were built along the water cutting between it and the next island, its coast just as packed with small houses, the wooden walkways lined with faerings and fishing boats. Kid turned into that slender channel. They rowed through the small path winding between islands, toward the southern bay where a larger harbor sat in front of a market teeming with residents.

A horn blasted from the docks as Kid and the crew steered the ship into the bay to a set of docks not already occupied with longships and knarrs. While the men began to toss ropes out to the people who came to greet them, Nami continued to take in the sound stretching out around her. To the south, beyond the island that wrapped around the bay they were in, was another massive island, its jagged coast as rich and green from the spring rains as the other islands. To the east, further up the straight, Nami could see even more islands, tightly packed together as they rose in the fjord. And even further out, beyond the grey clouds swallowing the distant hills that threatened them with another rain shower, she could just make out the white caps of the mountains in the distance. She would probably get a better view of the sound from one of the tall hills, but even from the bay, it was breathtaking.

"Nami," Kid called to her from the port side where he was just beginning to climb onto the wale to jump to the docks. His smirk said he was amused as he waved her over. "You'll have plenty of time to see it all later. Now get over here."

She was too eager to see the new town to care about his impatient command, and gathered her skirts to pick her way between the men securing the ship and met Kid at the side. He held his hand out, waving for her to take it. She let him help her up onto the side of the ship, and jumped down onto the dock ahead of him. His hand went to her back once he landed on the dock behind her, and pushed her along toward the beach where she spied the curious crowd part to a small group heading their way.

The man leading the group had dark blue hair shaved down to short bristles at the side and back with only a longer tuft of hair swept back neatly atop his head. A scruffy, thin beard covered his jaw and chin. He was dressed well, with dark brown slacks, an orange tunic, and red vest trimmed with brown and yellow embroidered knotwork along the collar and hem. He looked bored, tired as he scratched his beard and yawned, but he was obviously in charge judging by the way everyone greeted him.

Nami had no idea what to think when she spotted a tiny white mouse poke its head out from his vest, even less when the man affectionately scratched the animal's head.

"Jarl Eustass," the man greeted once she and Kid had reached the end of the docks. "Hm, we weren't expecting you for another few days."

"I finished my latest ship early," Kid explained, gesturing over his shoulder at their boat. He gave Nami a pat on the head right after, prompting her to glower up at his wide grin. "And this girl here navigated us through some storms so we made good time. Even after one of my ships was damaged."

"This girl did?" the man asked, brow cocked curiously as his gaze swept over her. He hummed after a moment and then shrugged indifferently. "Well, whatever. We're glad to have you. The lumber?"

"At the shipyard being unloaded. My damaged ship went with them. I need to make some repairs before we head off on our raids," Kid explained.

"Hm, that's fine," the man said. His gaze once more settled on her. "And so who is this new navigator you brought? She wasn't with you last year."

"This is Nami," Kid introduced, "she just came to my village a month ago."

"Pleased to meet you, Nami," he greeted with a nod of his head. "I'm Iceburg, Jarl of Álasund." He scratched his mouse's head again. "And this mouse I just found today. His name is…" He pursed his lips in thought. "Tyrannosaurus."

Nami had no idea how to respond and glanced up at Kid. He shrugged unhelpfully, so she turned back to smile politely. "It's good to meet you… Both of you?"

Iceburg hummed before turning to gesture to the people who followed him to the docks. He waved at the woman behind him first, wearing a deep orange dress, its long sleeves and wide collar decorated with yellow swirling stitches that ran down the center of her bust. At her waist sat a thick brown belt, the leather elaborately woven and decorated with milky white glass beads that hung from frayed tassels at her hip. The only accessory she carried on her was a short dagger tucked into her belt. Her long blonde hair was swept back into a simple bun, held in place by a thick brown strip of leather. Blue eyes caught hers, stern and serious, but undoubtedly beautiful.

"This is Kalifa, she manages my household," Iceburg introduced. "Please see to some accommodations for Nami," he ordered the woman.

Kalifa nodded. "The women may stay with me, Jarl Iceburg."

"Hm, that's a good idea," Iceburg praised.

The woman held her head high with pride. "Do not forget, Jarl Iceburg, you are supposed to be hearing a territorial dispute from Sula, you have to pass judgement on a thief in Humla, and you also need to inspect Jarl Eustass' cargo on Hessa."

"I don't want to," Iceburg huffed petulantly.

Nami glanced up at Kid again, once again confused, but he remained unhelpful with his own bored expression.

Iceburg turned to the other person with him, a tall man with a long, square-shaped nose and short ginger hair, lighter than her own, hidden beneath a blue knit cap. He wore blue woolen trousers, a simple white linen tunic and light blue coat, with two swords in his belt, and another short knife hanging at the opposite hip. He came across as serious, like the woman, but his lips curled in the faintest smile to show a friendlier demeanor.

"Kaku," Iceburg addressed him, "see to the lumber. The rest I'll do tomorrow." He frowned thoughtfully. " _Perhaps_ ," he added. An afterthought. Nami had a feeling he would put off his responsibilities another day if he could. "Since I have nothing better to do," he continued on, and Nami just caught herself from gaping at the remark – he had plenty of things to do according to Kalifa, "I'll give you a tour of our village, Nami."

"I need to see to the cargo and our other ship," Kid said, turning back to the docks as Kaku headed toward a faering. He pointed at her in warning. "Behave for Gunda and Killer."

She rolled her eyes and waved him off. Her guardians for the day took his place at her side when Kid jogged off to go with Kaku, and Nami turned to follow after Jarl Iceburg and Kalifa as they made their way east, away from the central part of the village and inner harbor.

"We'll start with my home," Iceburg called back, "and the lodgings you'll be staying in."

Nami hurried to keep up with the pair's longer strides, and fell in beside Kalifa while Killer hung back to walk behind the women.

"This is a rather large village," Nami commented idly. "And the shipyard looked bigger than any I've seen."

"We're the main port and largest village of the region," Kalifa explained. She gestured toward the Jarl leading them along packed dirt roads between wood and turf homes, toward the southern side of the island's hill. "Jarl Iceburg has centralized much of the governance of the area. The farmers of the islands around us bring crops and wares here to sell and trade. They also come here should they have a dispute with a neighbor to see it peacefully resolved, and any who attempted to resolve it themselves are brought here for judgement." Nami nodded her understanding when the woman paused in her explanation, and looked up at the Jarl who apparently commanded enough respect from the people to be entrusted with so much responsibility. He was picking at his ear and appeared to have no cares in the world. "He is greatly loved," Kalifa whispered, "do not show him even the slightest disrespect, or you will have to answer to me."

Nami swallowed thickly at the underling threat in the woman's stern voice. She edged closer to Gunda who was stiff at her side, a hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Hm, Kalifa, don't be so harsh to our guests," Iceburg called back with a glance over his shoulder. "Though I would advise, young lady, that you do not anger her. She's quite strong, and usually I'm the one who ends up hurt."

Kalifa's jaw dropped and she appeared almost ashamed for a moment. Nami bit back a snicker, relaxing as the other woman brushed off the rebuke.

"It's not just governance I see to here. I'm a shipbuilder, just as your Jarl is, but I brought more builders and craftsmen to the town, the best I could find in Noreg, and created a centralized shipyard for the islands," Iceburg explained. "Anyone who needs a boat, be it for fishing, raids, exploration, or just traveling between islands, they come to me so they might have the best ship they can buy. And those people bring back whatever they catch, or pillage, or create, and sell them in our market to people they might never have met in their smaller villages. We also encourage trade with other Jarls to bring in the finest materials for our craftsmen, seeing that their wares are the best quality, and that, of course, brings even more people here to buy and trade."

"I'm surprised Kid hasn't attempted to do the same in Drafn," Nami remarked, glancing back at Killer. "The eastern coast certainly has the potential to be its own trading center."

"Kid has his own ambitions," was all Killer said in response, and Nami huffed when he pointedly dropped the subject there. She would have to remind herself to ask on those ambitions later. While Kid did not seem inclined to use her for his own goals the way Arlong did, there was no telling how that might change if he became driven enough to use anything at his disposal to achieve his dreams.

Jarl Iceburg's path brought them to a gentle incline with wood stairs built into the side of the hill, winding up through denser trees, away from the busy village center. The path ran along the southern side of the island's slope before coming to an end at a cleared section of forest with a grand hall, at least three times larger than Kid's, built right up against the side of the hill. An open square sat in front of the hall's porch, overlooking the sea and the large island across the strait.

"The main village of Álasund is primarily situated around this bay," Kalifa explained, "but Jarl Iceburg's governance extends to the south in parts of Sula." She pointed across the strait to the other island. "As well as to some villages on Oksenoya." She pointed straight east to a large island only divided from their own by a narrow channel. "The islands to the north and west are also under his control. Seven islands in total follow his command."

"That's a lot of influence. I'm surprised you're not trying to call yourself a king," Nami remarked.

"Hm, too much work," Iceburg said as he came to a halt in the square in front of his home. He gestured down the slope to rows of small wood and thatch homes built along the length of the coast. Thirty houses sat tightly packed and appeared empty save for a few puffs of smoke rising from the roof openings of a handful of them. "My builders and craftsmen live down there. I have extra space there for your men to remain in while you rest and prepare for your raids." He turned east and waved them along to another home, larger than the ones the men would stay in, but still only about half the size of Kid's hall. "You ladies will be staying here."

The Jarl paused outside the house to allow Kalifa to enter first, leading the women in to show them the modest quarters made up of only two partially separated rooms. The front room held a round stone fire pit at the center, with ornate silver lamps hanging from the ceiling to provide extra light. A loom sat to one corner, a small table beside it neatly organized with garments in the middle of being stitched or mended. Across the room was a raised wooden platform with a chest set in its corner that Kalifa immediately went to open, revealing furs and blankets for their bedding.

A curtain was pulled back between the front and back to show the second room with Kalifa's bed and a wooden tub.

"I do not like bathing where the men might think to spy on me," she explained, tossing a withering stare at her Jarl who stood outside the front door with Killer, his back to them. "If you are equally uncomfortable using the bathhouse down the hill, you are welcome to use my tub if you need it. I recommend that you do. Bathing anywhere near the men will either get you leered at, or lectured for your immodesty, depending on which men come upon you."

Knowing Kid, she would likely have guards on her any time she went anywhere, so she doubted she would have to worry about Iceburg's men. But she wouldn't refuse an opportunity to bathe without the potential for an audience. Gunda would likely want her to take advantage of the offer, as well.

She smiled her thanks, and they headed back to the square so Iceburg could show them his large hall. It had the same carved wood beams crossed above the entrance that Kid's hall had, but that was where any similarities ended. The front room was filled with tables and benches around a long stone firepit, but there was no formal chair or table to indicate Iceburg sat above the rest. The remainder of the hall was divided into other rooms more formally than Kid's. There was a room with a table covered with maps and small models of ships, chairs surrounding it that spoke of a more private meeting room for Iceburg and his inner circle. A large room was reserved for the Jarl's private quarters, another for his bath, and he had his own privy separate from the others. There were two more separate bedrooms reserved for high standing guests, such as Kid, and then two more smaller rooms used by the servants to store their supplies for the housework, as well as use for their sleeping quarters.

"Tell me, Nami," Iceburg began as he led them back down the hill, "how did you come by Jarl Eustass' village?"

Nami hesitated a moment and glanced toward Killer. His frown told her to keep to Kid's lie.

"My father, Jarl Ingvar, sent me to live with Kid as a ward in exchange for an alliance," Nami answered.

"I have not heard of this Jarl," Iceburg mused aloud.

"His steading is very small. He only oversees a handful of farms," Nami lied. "He's quite poor."

Iceburg looked over his shoulder, a brow raised in thought. After a long look, he shrugged it off.

"Still, his lands must hold some value for Eustass to agree to such an alliance. Or perhaps you're the valuable part in the arrangement. He said you navigated through storms for him?"

"I did. Navigation has long since been a skill of mine."

"Hm, and for a man with his ambitions, that is most certainly a valuable skill to get a hold of," Iceburg said, prompting Nami to look back at Killer again. She glared at him, firmly demanding he explain what those ambitions were with only the hard set of her gaze. Killer merely shook his head.

"Ask him later," he whispered and nudged her to keep following Iceburg back into the village.

With a quiet huff, she vowed to do just that. She didn't like the thought that she might have misjudged Kid's intentions in taking her in. Though, if she did, it was likely too late to change it. If her dreams were right, that he was meant to lose his life protecting hers, then she still had to find a way to stop that from happening, no matter how Kid might mean to use her in the future. He still meant to protect her, had still shown her more care than she expected him to. She would give him the benefit of the doubt until he proved her wrong.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon touring the marketplace and winding their way through homes, slowly heading west to the shipyard and docks where the rest of Kid's fleet had stopped. Nami took advantage of the teeming markets to distract herself from thoughts on Kid's ambitions, and browsed through the stands to see if there was anything she wanted to buy before they left. They would have extra room on the knarrs for anything she might wish to have, and after seeing a few carts with good furs, she decided she would grab some of the men another day to help her shop.

Bridges connected the three main islands Álasund was situated on, and as they began to cross the last bridge, with the shipyard straight ahead, Iceburg glanced back at her.

"There are two shipyards. One belongs to me, the other to my younger brother," he explained. "He would prefer to take damaged ships, dismantle them, and then re-engineer them for a new ship, and he regularly goes on raids without my approval to get gold and silver to buy more materials than what I allot him. He is likely bartering with your Jarl for more of _my_ timber. If not, he might be persuading him to let his men come along on your raids."

Iceburg paused at the end of the bridge and frowned at the docks to the left where men were still unloading the last bits of lumber from Kid's knarrs. Nami spotted Kid talking with a much taller man. He had light blue hair tied in a thick braid that fell just past his shoulders, with sideburns framing his jaw. He and Kid looked to be laughing and getting along, which only made Iceburg's frown deepen.

"If it's the latter, please take him with you, and do everything in your power to see that he stays there. It will save me a number of headaches in the future," Iceburg said.

Nami looked to Kalifa for an explanation.

"Franky is a scavenger in this city. He uses whatever he can get his hands on, and while he and Iceburg are brothers, they are just as much rivals in ship building. They respect each other, though they have never seen eye to eye on much of anything," Kalifa explained. A shout in the distance distracted them, and Nami looked up the long harbor to see a man running away from two others brandishing their swords. Kalifa sighed. "There has also been a long and heated rivalry between the members of the two companies. A number of bets won and lost. And Franky is known to take in outcasts who are more than happy to collect on a debt accrued from a lost bet with blood when they don't get the gold promised."

"Paulie, get back here!" the men shouted at the one being chased. "You owe us a whole purse!"

"And I said I would pay you when I got it!" Paulie hollered back, racing between workers along the docks and harbor.

"That was a month ago!"

"Well, I haven't got it yet!" he shouted back before ducking behind the framework of a new ship. They watched as he hid between braces, face splitting with a grin, and snatched a length of rope stretched across the ground. Just as the men chasing him came in close, he tugged the rope, tripping the men and sending them crashing to the ground. With a sharp laugh, Paulie pushed out from his hiding place and began to run away again while the men were untangling themselves on the ground.

Iceburg sighed just as another man with long black hair tied in a low tail stuck his leg out as Paulie ran by, aiming for the bridge they were standing on, and tripped him in turn. He went skidding through the dirt and fell limp in front of them.

He popped his head back up, scruffy face covered in filth and fresh scratches, and bits of blond hair flying from the tail he wore it in. "Lucci! You're supposed to trip them, not me!" he hollered.

The man known as Lucci silently glowered.

"Franky, call your men off," Iceburg yelled to the man talking with Kid. The ones who had been chasing Paulie were back on their feet and storming at Paulie with large grins.

"If Paulie owes them, then let them collect," Franky said, waving him off.

"Hm, he always owes them something," Iceburg pointed out. The man in the dirt gaped up at him. "At least wait on collecting until our guests leave," he added, gesturing back at her. "I would rather not sully her impression of our village with senseless bloodshed."

"Tsh," Franky hissed, turning to his men. "Zambai. Kop. Leave him alone. He ain't going anywhere."

The two men groaned in disappointment, but sheathed their swords, anyway. They made a few rude gestures as Paulie picked himself up off the ground, and then made a grudging retreat. With their backs turned, Paulie made an even ruder gesture back and looked ready to call out some insults but was silenced by Lucci's fist.

"You gamble too much," Lucci lectured stoically as Paulie nursed his bruising jaw.

"You're supposed to be on my side," Paulie huffed.

Lucci shrugged and headed off back to work, leaving Paulie to glare at his back. With the chaos under control once again, Iceburg led them toward the docks where their knarrs were being unloaded, meaning to formally introduce her to Franky and his own builders. As they neared, Nami caught Kid's gaze and leveled him with a glare as she remembered Iceburg's earlier remarks on his ambitions. Kid's brow rose at the look.

"Why are you mad at me again? I haven't spoken to you in hours, and you're glaring at me," Kid grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. She huffed and turned her chin up, deciding to ignore him for the moment, and he quickly turned to Killer. "What the fuck did I do now?"

Killer only spared a shrug for his Jarl in response, and Kid threw up his arms in frustration with a string of curses before stomping away to help unload the last pieces of lumber.

She would talk to him later. When they didn't have an audience present.

* * *

Kid had left her in a perfectly good mood, their earlier stand-off long behind them, so he was at a loss as to why Nami's first reaction upon seeing him hours later was to glare. She then proceeded to ignore him in favor of meeting Franky and Iceburg's men, treating them all to a warm smile and honest laughter while he finished unloading his ships.

He assumed it was something minor, and let her have her tiff. Probably wasn't even related to him, he was just the poor sucker who would get the blame. At least she hadn't demanded more gold from him. He wouldn't humor her fines when he knew he hadn't done a single thing wrong all day. She could keep on giving him a cold shoulder, for all he cared. He was innocent of whatever charges she thought to trump up against him this time.

By the time night fell, they made their way back to Jarl Iceburg's hall. Nami walked back through the village with Iceburg, Paulie, Lucci, and Kalifa, while Kid joined Franky and his men on his boat. The older shipbuilder gave him a sympathetic slap on the back when he noticed him glaring off at the group crossing the bridge into the village.

"She probably heard some of the village girls whispering about you," Franky reasoned. "It's just a little jealousy. She'll forget all about it after you give her some attention."

Kid stared flatly at the man. There were so many things wrong with that reason, he didn't know where to begin to refute it. His eyes narrowed when he slapped him on the back again, but he swallowed down a biting remark that the man mind his own damn business. He was at least right about one thing. She would forget her anger eventually. She always did. And once he found out what was bothering her, he'd see that she forgot it faster.

Kid's men had long since unloaded their chests from the ships. He found his chest in the room Iceburg arranged for him, and Killer mentioned that Nami was already settled in the women's quarters with Gunda and Kalifa, while the rest of his men were down the hill in the other houses. Kid frowned at the news of Nami's sleeping arrangements, but he reasoned that Gunda would be with her if she had any more nightmares haunt her. Not that he cared where she slept, especially if she was giving him the cold shoulder for no reason at all.

After cleaning up from the day's voyage and work, Kid made his way out to the square where Iceburg was holding their feast beneath the early evening stars. His men had gathered wood for a large bonfire, and Kid arrived just as they began to pass around pitchers of ale. With the more festive atmosphere, Kid allowed himself to sink into revelry, and did his best to spend the evening drinking with everyone.

Eventually Nami stopped glaring at him, but she was too busy enjoying the feast with a few of Iceburg's men who had become taken with her upon first meeting her. Naturally, she turned that to her advantage, and just as she had done with his men, Nami made servants out of the craftsmen. Kid watched her laugh and drink on the other side of the fire, and did his best not to glower as he settled on a log to eat his dinner of roast pig and cabbage.

"I don't think she's actually mad at you," Killer said, breaking Kid away from the glare he had leveled on Paulie. The man had been spending much of the night with Nami, but wasn't one of the many turned into a servant for her. Instead, he had spent most of the night lecturing the woman for her inappropriate behavior, only to be ignored when she grabbed him by the hand and forced him to dance with her. Kid swore he had never seen a man turn so red, all from a woman's hand in his.

"Then why the fuck isn't she talking to me?" Kid huffed, dragging his gaze away from Nami as she spun around a fuming Paulie, her laughter ringing through the square. Two women from Franky's household, Mozu and Kiwi, joined in on the teasing, and soon Paulie found himself in the middle of three women dancing around him. He didn't think Nami was drunk, not after seeing how much ale she could drink at the feast he threw for her, but she was certainly in a festive spirit.

"Iceburg made an idle remark about your ambitions," Killer explained. "And alluded to the possibility that she might help you achieve your own goals. If Jarl Arlong meant to claim her for his own purposes, she might be worried that you'll do the same if your dreams are lofty enough."

"Tsh, that's stupid," Kid grumbled. He had never once thought about how he might use her gifts to his own advantage, at least not outside of giving her a purpose in his village so no one questions why she was there. And that didn't include his idle thoughts of turning her into a bed slave when they first found her, or possibly ransoming her to anyone who looked for her. That had been before he knew what she could do and why she was sent to him.

"I told her to talk to you about her concerns."

"Then why hasn't she?" he growled.

Killer shrugged, and Kid felt whatever patience he had leave him. He was fine with letting her attitude blow over before, but if she was thinking to doubt him all because of a vague remark about his goals, then he couldn't leave it alone. He thought she trusted them.

He tossed back the last of the ale in his horn, and snatched another pitcher from a passing servant. With an annoyed growl, he got up from his log, and pushed his way through the groups dancing and playing around the fire. He saw Gunda jump up in surprise when he got closer to Nami's group, the shieldmaiden wary when she noticed his sights aimed on Nami. She backed down when he threw her a glare. He wasn't a danger to Nami, and she ought to know that.

"I'm cuttin' in," he called to the group tormenting Paulie just before snaking an arm around Nami's waist. She shrieked in surprise as he tossed her over his shoulder, while the other men whistled and hollered. Paulie was the only one not hooting at him. He and Kalifa were too busy yelling about the impropriety of carting Nami off on his shoulder.

"Put me down, Kid," Nami ordered as he walked away from the boisterous group and headed off down the path to the village.

"Oh? Are you talking to me now?" Kid growled back.

She squirmed and growled in his hold. "Yes, I'll talk to you now," she snapped when she saw there was no escaping him.

When he felt they had enough privacy, he set her down just off the path. "Alright. _Talk_ ," he ordered impatiently, and took a seat on a moss covered rock among slender birch trees.

Nami huffed at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "I _was_ going to talk to you tomorrow. This isn't a conversation to have with outsiders around."

"There ain't anyone around us now," Kid said, gesturing around them. "So tell me what's with the shitty attitude all of a sudden. Killer said it has somethin' to do with my ambitions."

He refilled his horn with the ale he grabbed, and waved for Nami to take it. The drink was a peace offering that would hopefully keep her calm, and thus keep his temper even. They couldn't be shouting at each other there.

Nami snatched the horn but didn't drink. "What _are_ your ambitions, anyway?"

"What does it matter to you?" he asked. "They got nothing to do with you."

Her lips pursed stubbornly. He rolled his eyes in return.

"If you're worried about me using you like your usurper wanted to, then you're an idiot. I've taken you in, given you a home, and provided you with a small army to keep you safe. I haven't taken your family from you, haven't threatened you into using your family's gifts to better my lot in life. And from what I've seen, you've been pretty damn happy with all that I've provided. So why do you all of a sudden think I might be using you?" he asked with a low growl.

Nami's tense posture relaxed as she sighed. She took a drink of the ale, and handed it back to him.

"I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt," she said. "You hadn't given me any reason to mistrust your intentions before, but I didn't think you had any ambitions outside of maintaining your village and building your ships."

Kid scowled at her. "'Course I have ambitions," he grunted, taking a long drink from the horn. "Every man's got to have ambitions, a dream to work toward. I just don't need a seer to achieve mine. 'Specially not one who's only seen my death. Don't see what good that'll do me."

"Iceburg thought my navigational abilities would be more useful to you," Nami explained.

Kid frowned thoughtfully. "That's a good point," he mused. "But if I meant to use those skills of yours, I don't see why you would have much of a problem with it. You said it yourself, you've wanted to see more of the world. Your former Jarl meant to sail you down to Africa, and you said you wanted to see England. So what if I used your navigation skills when it would mean you get to achieve those dreams, too. In fact, your dreams line up pretty nicely with my ambitions."

"What do you mean?" Nami came closer, and he shifted to the side to let her sit next to him. He filled his horn again and handed it over to her, then set the pitcher in the dirt.

"I told you about the Jarl I usurped," Kid began, leaning back on the rock as he spoke. She nodded. "All those guys were always laughing at me behind my back, thought I was a fool. They were happy to use my ships and my strength to get what they wanted, but they mocked me when I wasn't there to do anything about it. I should have known they were. The Jarl's sons were bastards to me when I was a child, too. I didn't shed a single tear when I found their corpses on the battlefield. Hell, I spat on those assholes and prayed that Odin would leave them to rot there."

Nami shifted, uncomfortable or unsettled with the story, but he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to see that she was listening as she drank.

"After I took that family down and righted all their wrongs against me and my friends, I vowed that I would be a better Jarl, better man, prove that I wasn't someone they could laugh at. I would bring fame to my name and people out on the seas and battlefield. I'd bring them the greatest treasures, return with stories of magnificent battles in far off places. I'd give them a reason to sing tales of me, even long after I was gone." He chuckled. "I'll never bow or bend my knee to another man. And I'll make myself a king to achieve that if I have to."

Nami hummed. His story didn't seem to reassure her, so he sat straight and turned to glower at her.

"Those ambitions haven't changed since you came into hall, and I'm serious when I say your gifts will do me no good. The only good they might bring me is the tale they'll tell of me when I slay your giant. But I've always meant to find my fame and riches with my own two hands, my own strength. I have no use for a woman's magic." He took the horn of ale from her and swallowed down the last of it before tossing the empty cup to the ground. "Iceburg's right. Your navigational skills would be to my benefit, but I'm reluctant to use them when it means I'll be dragging you off to my battles and putting you in danger. And that's somewhat counter to my purposes of keeping you alive." He growled to himself. "I _was_ thinking to take you to England with us after you got us through those storms, Franky even offered to come with us so I can spare a few men to stay back at the camp to keep you safe. But if you think I'd be doing it solely for my own gain, then you can go back to Drafn and hide in my hall for the rest of your life, for all I care."

She stared thoughtfully for a moment, and then relaxed beside him with a smile. "I guess it was silly of me to worry."

Kid chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his mood easily lifting now that she was no longer annoyed with him. "No, makes sense. You were told a story about all the women in your family being desired as tools for a man's ambitions, and you've been suffering beneath another man all these years. You have plenty of reasons to doubt any man you meet. We're all greedy bastards, after all. Though, I am offended that you'd think to mistrust me for even a second at this point. I ought to take back some of that gold you've swindled from me over the last few weeks as recompense for it."

"You're never getting a single piece of gold back from me," Nami said with a teasing lilt. She nudged her shoulder into his side. "But, I'll make it up to you by letting you take me up there tomorrow." She pointed up to the very top of the island's hill. He followed her finger and frowned.

"Why? And how is that making it up to me?" he asked.

"I want a better vantage point of the strait and fjord," she explained. "Paulie and a few of the others offered to lead the way up."

He glowered at her. "Again, how's that making it up to me?"

"I assumed you would rather take me up yourself than leave me in the care of other men who aren't as determined to protect me as you are," she said.

He grunted. That was a good reason for him to go along. He definitely didn't like the idea of sending her off with strangers, least of all strangers who had spent most of the night undressing her with their eyes. He caught himself glaring off at the distant glow of the bonfire and the laughter of the men around it. Nami giggled and drew his attention back to her.

"See?"

His eyes narrowed on her. As good as her reason was, it still wasn't even close to an apology for doubting him. "I think I'm the one who ought to be most worried about being taken advantage of, woman. I won't let you manipulate me like you do all of them."

The pout she wore was obviously fake, and he glared at her to say he knew it. She dropped the look with a laugh.

"You're still going to take me up there, though," she sang. "Just like you're still going to take me to England."

His brow rose. "And how do you suppose that?"

"You can't deny me anything when you know it'll make me happy," she said knowingly. "Because you like me."

"Is that so?" He chuckled.

She leaned into his side, angling her head back so he could see her teasing smile. "Mhm, and it's because I'm cute."

He broke into loud laughter that drowned out the faint sounds of the bonfire's revelry. "Just because you have a pretty face, doesn't mean I'll let you have your way all the time."

"Yes it does," she sang.

"I'm not one of the men willing to jump at your beck and call like the rest."

"You're just not as obvious about it," she said with a snort of laughter, and slipped from beneath his arm. He glowered up at her as she spun to face him, leaning down with her mischievous smile. "But you still like to make me happy."

"That's 'cause you're less of a headache when you're happy," he reasoned.

She hummed. "And because you think I'm pretty."

He rolled his eyes. "I never said I thought you were pretty. I just said you got a pretty face by objective standards." He waved off toward the bonfire. "I might not think you're pretty or cute, but those guys obviously do." She pouted for him, once more the look was feigned. He leaned forward with a grin. "Anyway, unlike those guys, I know you snore. Hard to find a woman pretty after you've heard her snoring."

She gasped and stood straight, hands planted on her hips. "I do not snore. That's you, Kid."

He snorted. "You also drool in your sleep."

Nami gaped at him. "Again, that's you! I'm still drying out my furs after you slobbered all over them last night. You're no better than a mutt, you drool so much."

He couldn't help but laugh at her half-hearted fuming. Her cheeks were puffed, and he could admit to himself it _was_ a cute look. He wouldn't tell her that, of course. She didn't need to think any higher of herself.

"Alright, but you do kick. A lot. Surprised I don't wake up with more bruises when I share a bed with you," he teased.

Her irritation melted away with a quiet laugh. "I only kick because I have an unwelcome guest in my bed. Especially one who tries to hog the bed and smother me in my sleep."

"I don't smother you," he said, waving off the complaint with a grin.

"You were holding me so tight, you nearly crushed me," she snapped.

"It was only one time," he said. She rolled her eyes, but when he laughed again, he saw her trying to bury a smile. He certainly preferred it when she wasn't angry with him, no matter how much he loved that spark in her eyes when she was furious. He reached out to grasp her hand and pull her closer, startling her with the move. He ignored her surprise. "While we're on the subject, though… You going to be okay staying with Kalifa?"

She knew why he was asking, and smiled sweetly. "I'll be fine. I can't have you sharing a bed with me here to chase those visions away. And anyway, if you sent me back to Drafn, I would be alone to deal with them while you were in England. I can't rely on you being there every night. I'll have to face my nightmares on my own eventually."

He understood her point, but after the odd dream she had the previous night, and the change to her scar afterward, he couldn't help but feel uneasy about leaving her alone. It was another reason he thought to take her to England. He could stay close by in case the Norns thought to take more from her flesh. He didn't know how he could fight them, or her dreams, but he wouldn't leave her alone when they came.

He nodded and then gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it.

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me," he said as he grabbed his horn off the ground and began to pour the last of the ale from the pitcher. He needed to forget his concerns and trust that she would be fine. She would have Gunda there, and the shieldmaiden would protect her as she slept. Maybe her presence will be enough to chase off the dreams.

He was surprised by the feeling of her hand in his hair and jerked his head up to stare wide eyed at the woman. He could see sympathy in her smile for a split second before it was replaced with mischief.

"You know, you're kind of cute when you worry," she quipped. His jaw dropped in further shock as her fingers danced over his cheek. She leaned down, a teasing glimmer in her eyes as she tapped his chin. "Then again, I think you're just trying to take advantage of my dreams to invite yourself into a pretty girl's bed."

His surprise washed away as he growled at her, and Nami stood straight with a snickering laugh. She spun away to climb back up the path to Iceburg's hall.

"I told you I don't think you're pretty," he called after her.

She laughed again, and hollered back "Of course you don't, Kid," with a mocking air. "It's not as though you're blushing right now, or anything."

He growled at her retreating back. His eyes cast down to the sway of her hips as she sauntered off, and then looked away with a hiss.

She wasn't pretty at all.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** The best part of this fic is I get to make it somewhat slow burn and let Kid have his denial phase of attraction. Because that man is in full on contradictory denial stage right now and it's only going to get worse (or better, depending on your perspective)._

 _And so yes, look, I found a way to include Franky. Once I realized I could use Galley-La quite nicely here, I knew I had to include Franky. I might include one other Straw Hat, but very briefly, and not until toward the very end. As for including the CP-9 members who were apart of Galley-La, I'm using them because 1 - Kalifa got the fucking shaft by Oda during Enies Lobby, so I'm fixing that, 2 - Lucci's blood-thirst is too good to pass up, and 3 - because I like them. Kalifa will be getting the most attention out of all of them, though, and she will be more in line with how she was during Water 7 arc (especially the way she fought at the end, before Oda turned her into a weak airhead only good for fanservice)._

 _As for Iceburg's mouse - I don't give a shit if this is Viking age Norway, he needs his mouse, and also to be a very lazy adult. Lucci will also get Hattori, but he won't be pulling the ventriloquist act with him._

 _This is probably the most light-hearted chapter of this fic, so don't expect much more comedic relief after this point._


	11. Chapter 11

_**Warning** : This chapter contains talk of sexual assault and rape. There is also a scene with body mutilation and gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Their World's Justice_

The weather was clear, the blue skies only spotted with scant white wisps of cloud. It was perfect for exploring the island, and Nami was eager to get going. Unfortunately, Kid wasn't quite as excited after waking with a headache he blamed on all the ale, leaving him in a surlier mood than normal.

"I got a ship to repair, Nami, I can't go traipsing around the island," he growled at her over breakfast. "And Iceburg wants someone else to suffer alongside him while he sits as judge." She pouted at him only to have him point a spoon of porridge in her face. "Don't give me that look. I never said I'd go with you."

"You can trust that my men will keep you safe," Iceburg reassured on Kid's other side.

"And I'm sending a few of my own with you," Kid continued. "Just don't go turning them into your servant boys again. You're not some sheltered princess to be doted on. You're the daughter of a Jarl who's barely above a farmer." She huffed, but he silenced her with another wave of his spoon. "Remember your place here," he growled lowly in warning.

He ignored her frown and dug back into his meal. The subject was dropped entirely when Iceburg struck up a different conversation.

"So tell me what news do you have of the man claiming himself to be a king to the northeast of you," Iceburg said. "Has he tried to make any bid for your fealty or land?"

Kid shook his head. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. A farmer I trade with on the edge of this king's territory has informed me that he's building a new ship. Oslofjord has plenty of materials, but I won't be surprised if he attempts to expand into my territory for more timber…"

She was distracted from their conversation when Paulie and Lucci came into the hall, aiming for the table she was seated at. Paulie snatched a piece of dry bread from Kalifa's plate on Nami's other side when she wasn't looking, and nearly choked on it when Lucci smacked the back of his head.

"The horses are ready for your ride whenever you are," Lucci said.

"I'm finished eating," Nami said as she stood from the table.

Kalifa looked at her plate and then glowered at Paulie who was licking a few crumbs from his fingers. "I suppose I'm done eating, as well. Let's grab our cloaks. We'll meet you and the other men at the stables," she said to the two men. As she stood, she took Nami by the arm to lead her out to the square and back to her house. "The winds can get chilly up there, especially if a storm brews."

"I think the weather will stay clear today," Nami said, looking up at the skies. "I can't feel any rain in the air."

Kalifa stared at her curiously. "Well, either way, it's still best to be prepared. The trek will take most of the day, but we should have plenty of time to return by nightfall. I already ordered the servants to pack salted fish and cheese for a meal once we reach the top."

At her home, they found Gunda securing a knife to her belt with a partially packed bag set at her feet. "Are you finished eating, my lady?"

"I am. And the men say the horses are ready," Nami said as she grabbed her cloak.

Before she could throw the garment around her shoulders, Gunda took it from her to help. Nami sighed at the woman's overly servile behavior. It came across nervous, shaky, but she couldn't even begin to guess why the shieldmaiden would be so anxious.

"Is something wrong?" she asked the woman as she secured the clasps of her cloak.

"No, my lady," Gunda answered without meeting her gaze. "I took the liberty of filling some skins with fresh water, and another with ale if you wish for some," she rambled on as she went to pick up the bag she packed. That was when Nami noticed her hands trembling.

She snatched the woman's hands away from the bags, and forced her gaze to hers. "What happened?"

"Nothing, my lady," she answered, but Nami merely glared at her. She relaxed with a sigh. "Nothing has happened… _yet._ "

"Are you worried about the ascent?" Kalifa asked from where she stood in the doorway to her room, fastening a whip to her belt.

"No… though…" Gunda trailed off with a frown. "I do not trust the men away from home."

"They will not touch you, you have my word," Kalifa reassured. "If they do, I will personally gut them with my knife."

"It is not only for myself that I am worried," she said, glancing at Nami warily. Nami scowled at the meaning behind that look. "Jarl Eustass has informed me of his intent to take us to England," Gunda continued. "It has been many years since I was last away from the village, and I only ever went raiding with the men once… But I have seen what they do while away from our world and our laws. I do not think it wise to take a lady such as you into battle."

"You're going raiding?" Kalifa asked, approaching them with a curious frown.

"I'm not raiding," Nami said with a sigh. "He's taking me so I can see England, and give me a chance to navigate in the more open ocean. I have no intention to join their battles, but I want to see new lands." She turned to Gunda. "And Kid isn't particularly happy about this, either. He means to leave both of us at the camp with a few extra guards."

"There is no telling what those guards might do while their Jarl is not watching," Gunda said softly. "I have seen for myself how battle fills a man's blood with lust. Not only for death."

Nami looked to Kalifa for some help, but she only continued to frown. She was well aware of what the men did while they raided and battled. There was a difference between how they treated free women from their lands and captured women from others. There were strict laws in place to protect their free women, but those laws were not extended to any person captured and taken as a slave. Those people were held at a status lower than a dog.

If Gunda were a slave, she would understand her trepidation, but she was a free woman, a shieldmaiden, no less. Even while away from their home, their laws still protected her. And Kid's men did not seem the type to shirk their Jarl's laws, even away from the village.

"I'm sorry," Gunda said abruptly, snatching up the bag and turning for the door. "I'm merely anxious, there is no need to ruin the day with such dark talk."

Before Nami could stop her, the shieldmaiden was out the door. She couldn't even glimpse her face as she kept her head down while rushing off toward the stables.

"I fear she's seen battles she never should have," Kalifa mused while Nami continued to stare after her friend. A soft touch to her arm drew her attention to the other woman who offered her a gentle smile. "We should leave her be for now. Pressing her on the matter will do her no good."

Nami grudgingly agreed. She wondered if Kid might have a clue of what might be bothering Gunda, though. She had noticed the woman's fears around all of the men, Kid included. Could something have happened in the past? If any one of his men harmed her, she would castrate them for it, no matter how old the crime.

"Let's go. If we take too long, Paulie will be here to fume at us for dawdling," Kalifa said as she wound her arm through Nami's. "And I would like to hear more of this journey to England. I haven't been there in years…"

* * *

Their climb up the mountain was a long path that switched back at points, leading them along the length of the island, and then back again. The villagers had created a straight path leading up to the top on the western side, but Nami wanted to see more of the island and strait, so Kalifa had been the one to suggest the longer route that cut around sheer rocks and steep slopes. It was well worth the time as they slowly ascended, giving Nami a greater view of the eastern region of the island that was thinly populated.

"That is land owned by Jarl Iceburg," Kalifa pointed out as they rose over a cleared swatch of land at the far base of the bluff. A man was hard at work in the field, plowing the hard soil. "That is Blueno, the man he charged to oversee the property for him."

"He delegates quite a bit of work," Nami remarked.

"He trusts others to handle work when he can't," she said, nodding.

 _Can't or won't_ , Nami thought to herself. She resisted the urge to make that quip, not when Kalifa had begun to soften toward her since the day before. She'd rather not find out how serious her threat was.

"That reminds me," she said instead, turning to smile at Kalifa while adjusting herself in the saddle. She was becoming sore, but they didn't plan to stop for a rest until midday. "You manage Iceburg's household but aren't married to him."

Kalifa let out a short chuckle. "I'm sure he has moments where he wished I were."

Nami's brow rose. "So you are not his wife, or betrothed to him, but he does not view you as he would a servant."

"I suppose it is no different to your station in Drafn. Iceburg has never had a true interest in taking a wife, but does require someone to manage day to day operations of his hall and see that he does not lose track of his duties. Since he refuses to keep a wife for that, he instead picked a lady with high status and equal unwillingness to marry who is capable of performing such tasks, leaving him free to do as he pleases," she explained.

"How did you come to his household, then?" Nami asked.

"I came with Kaku about five years ago. We're cousins on my mother's side, and when Iceburg came to Frankia to see what Kaku and his father could build, he invited us to visit his shipyards here…"

"Frankia? You're Frankish?" Nami interrupted, bringing her horse closer as a breeze picked up. She didn't want to miss any of this story.

"Norman, actually," she answered. "On my father's side. My mother was from Svealand, near Uppsala, so I was raised on much of this world. Kaku's father was my mother's half-brother. His mother was Basque. We grew up together in a small village in Normandy, our families were quite close. When Kaku took the invitation to come here, I joined, curious to see this world, and he and I have been here since."

"So Iceburg gathered builders from other lands, too?"

Kalifa nodded. "Most are from the north, but those of us here that aren't have family connected to the north." She gestured toward one of the men riding ahead of them. "Even Lucci is from a village in the southern Italian peninsula. His father was a Norman that invaded there and impregnated a local woman before returning to Frankia. Iceburg has relatives there, though, and met Lucci while he was working on a large Galley to be given to the Papacy. He asked if he wished to see different lands, and a fortnight later, Lucci was sailing back here with him."

"He traveled that far for builders?" Nami mused to herself.

"What of you? You said you wish to see England, but have you traveled further than that? I imagine your father would have humored your wanderlust if he was so willing to hand you over to another Jarl."

"I've mostly only been to Hedeby, but I have been to Frankia, not far from the Norman lands," she said, frowning. "I once wished to visit more of Normandy, when I was told I might have some family there."

"Oh?" Kalifa looked at her, a slender brow arched in silent question.

Nami shook her head. "I'm not sure who they are, if they're even still there. It was just a story I was told when I was younger. But I've heard the lands are quite beautiful. I also have some family in Svealand… Götaland, actually." She stopped herself from saying where her birthplace was, feeling it safer to point at the territory Bellemere had chosen to hide her. It was true she still had family of a sort there, after all.

"Did you spend time there in the past? I had noticed you speak with a different accent from Jarl Kid and his men."

"A few years as a child. I must have picked up more than I thought," she said with a laugh. "Though I swear Kid has an accent all his own with his snarling and barking. He sounds more like an animal than a Norseman."

Kalifa chuckled, short but honestly amused. "As far as I'm concerned, all men sound like dogs, but I suppose he is especially beastly. Must be the berserker in him. He was born more wolf than man."

Their teasing and laughter was cut short when Lucci slowed ahead of them and Paulie turned in his saddle to hail they stop for a rest. Nami was grateful to let her legs stretch when Halle came to help her off the horse. Finn went to help Kalifa, but was promptly smacked away with a scowl. She hadn't been fond of the teenager's flirting. He brushed off the rejection with ease, though, and came to Nami's side as Halle took their horses toward a clearing amidst the trees where grass sprouted even in the shade. Axel followed after him with waterskins in hand to give the horses a drink, while Gunda came to her side with her waterskin.

"My lady," Gunda said as she handed the water to her. "Are you hungry?"

"I stole some berries from one of the pantries if you want something," Finn whispered to her, glancing around as he slipped a small pouch from his tunic.

"I'm more inclined to believe you flirted with a servant for those," Nami said with a rebuking glare. He pouted, until she slung an arm around his shoulders to draw him tight against her side. He stiffened when she leaned down to hiss in his ear. "At least that is the story you would be wise to tell. Your Jarl would not be pleased to hear you stole from an ally. It would bring dishonor to him and our whole village. Men have gone to war for less." She pulled away to see him nod in solemn understanding. She smiled and ruffled his hair, then released him from her hold. "But I will have a couple of those berries."

His remorseful frown vanished into a grin as he happily held the pouch out so she could help herself.

"Nami," Kalifa called to her, waving for her to follow on foot. She didn't question the woman and hurried after her along a narrow path cutting away from the one they were following. Gunda was behind her, unwilling to leave her alone. As much as Nami wanted to trust the other woman, she was glad to have her shieldmaiden there as the path thinned and then vanished before they broke out of the trees without warning.

She came to a skidding halt atop a steep rock overlooking the southern ridge of the island. Kalifa snatched her by the sleeve to help hold her steady as she got her balance on the sheer surface.

"I thought you might appreciate this view better," Kalifa explained as she gestured off toward the east.

They were high enough that she could see the white caps of the mountains further into the fjords with more clarity than when they sailed in. They stood tall, reaching into the clouds, and she imagined that if they sailed inland, they would see the waterfalls made as the frozen peaks began to melt in the summer warmth. She laughed happily as she soaked in the scenery. The sea gently rippled with the light breeze and currents beneath the surface, but from their height the deep blue water seemed almost perfectly still, but for the faint lapping of the sea against the shore far below. She could spy fishermen's boats out in the strait, men tossing their nets in the hope of catching larger prey than the smaller fish found near shore. She knew that if they were lucky, some villages could even trap a whale within a fjord to catch, providing more meat and oil than they would get from other sea creatures. That took far more effort, though, and the men out in their boats now certainly weren't looking for such a catch that day. Only enough to feed their families.

"You have never been to the western coast before?" Kalifa released her to take a seat on a fallen log a safe distance from the edge of the cliff.

"No, this is my first opportunity to sail west," Nami answered as her gaze continued to sweep over the terrain. "I wish there was more time to sail into the fjords here."

"If you were not going to England, you would be welcome to stay. Jarl Iceburg would be more than happy to take you out on a ship to see more," Kalifa said. "But you seem quite set on traveling with your Jarl."

Nami glanced at her over her shoulder, smiling apologetically. "Kid originally planned to leave me here while he raided so I could do just that, but…" She looked back out over the strait. "I can probably return here any time I please. The British Islands are much harder to reach."

"True. In fact, that is the reason I envy you," Kalifa mused.

"Envy me?" Nami asked, taking a seat beside her.

"As I said, it's been years since I've been England. Jarl Iceburg prefers to keep his business and trade within the north, only venturing south to trade with some Germanic tribes and Frankish ports. He no longer sails to England, though I hear Franky makes plenty of his own voyages when he wishes to. This world is a vast place, and I would enjoy to see more of it again." She peered around Nami at the shieldmaiden standing silently at the edge of the trees. "I think you ladies would enjoy more female company there. The men are so brutish and tiresome."

"I take offense to that," Paulie called out from the trees.

"Why?" Lucci asked, smacking the back of his head as they came out to stand on the edge of the rock. "You proved her correct only yesterday with the chase in the shipyard."

As Paulie mocked Lucci with a few snide comments, Nami didn't miss the way Gunda stiffened, her hand idly resting on her sword. She frowned at the sight. Kalifa had a point, they could do with more women that Gunda might be comfortable with.

"If you came with us," Finn sang as he rushed out of the trees to kneel on the ground in front of them. His smile was as charming as ever, and Nami snorted at his boyish behavior. "I would gladly remain at camp to guard you ladies."

Kalifa shoved him back with her foot, sending the teen to fall flat on his back with a laugh. "I need no guard, especially not a womanizer like you."

"And Jarl Kid has already decided you would stay behind as a guard," Axel called. "In fact, if Nami was not going with us, you would be sailing back to Drafn with her. You're fortunate you might get to see battle at all this time."

Finn huffed at the older man as he rolled back to his feet and made to charge at him. He was soundly defeated with an elbow to the top of his head, and crumpled to the ground, clutching his head.

"Lady Nami, everyone is picking on me again," Finn whined, turning to give her a fake pout, complete with quivering lip. His blue eyes shone with mischief, ruining the effect.

She sighed and waved him over to examine his head. "You'll be fine," she said as she swept her fingers through his ash brown hair. "I'm sure you saw far worse injuries from battle last summer. Stop acting like a child needing a woman to coddle him, and maybe they'll stop picking on you."

"Doubtful," Axel said beneath his breath. She shot him a glare, but his sly grin said he was teasing.

"If he is to be one of your guards, then I surely need to talk to Jarl Iceburg," Kalifa huffed. "While I trust your shieldmaiden to protect you fine, if Jarl Kid leaves you with children, you are sorely lacking for decent fighters."

"Are you saying you could best any one of us in battle?" Axel looked at her, his brow cocked high.

"I can have you flat on your back before you even know what hit you," Kalifa boasted.

Axel looked to Lucci and Paulie. The former was too stoic to read, but Paulie kept his lips pursed and found the view to be especially interesting away from them. Kalifa answered his unspoken question, and just as promised he was flat on his back with a snap of a whip as his only warning. The leather curled around his ankle tight, and it only took the woman one tug to send him crashing to the ground with an alarmed shout.

"Satisfied?" Kalifa asked as she slipped the leather from his leg.

Axel could only stare up at the sky, gaping as he caught his breath. He looked to be in shock. Finn clung to Nami and hid behind her as he stared warily at the blonde winding her whip back up to reattach to her belt. The tension on the hill was broken when Paulie failed to stifle a laugh and bent over wheezing with mirth.

Nami grinned up at the woman. "I think I like you."

* * *

Kid knew the repairs to his ship wouldn't take too long once he reached Álasund. Between the two shipyards, there were plenty of materials to make his repairs with, and ample hands to see it done quickly. By early afternoon, the only thing left was to mend the torn sail with a sturdier patch than the one Nami gave it, but Franky had spared one of his thralls for the task, leaving Kid with nothing else to do himself.

Not until Iceburg got a hold of him.

Kid typically did not enjoy the duties of governance that came with his title. Most petty squabbles he handed over to Killer to see that they were resolved peacefully and fairly. If he had to sit there and listen to two grown men bicker about a chicken's feathers, he was likely to kill the chicken for his next meal and fine the idiots for wasting his time. It was better for everyone if he focused on the murderers and rapists and occasional thieves, the crimes that often required some bloodshed in punishment.

Apparently Iceburg didn't much enjoy his own governance duties, granted he certainly came across as more patient than Kid could ever be while listening to his people argue. Though, he had a feeling that Iceburg would have fallen asleep if he didn't have his mouse to amuse himself with. He wasn't so much patient, as lazy.

"The sheep is mine," one farmer contested for the fifth time that afternoon. Kid shut his eyes to hide it when he rolled them in exasperation. Iceburg did not need him to sit in the assembly with him, and keeping him there was liable to bring the meeting to a swift end with an axe.

"No, that quality of wool has only ever come from the sheep on my land," the second farmer argued.

"Then why was she with my flock?"

"Because your fence is broken and allowed her to wander into your flock, but anyone can see her wool is different from yours."

"Wool is wool," the other said with a blithe wave.

Kid tilted his head to see Iceburg snickering at his mouse as it ran over his fingers and palm. He wasn't even listening. Maybe he could sneak out before the other Jarl even noticed.

A more patient hand settled on his shoulder, and he turned to sneer at Killer. Right, his own friend was forcing him to sit there and listen, too. Something about learning patience.

Killer handed him a cup of ale, and Kid grudgingly settled back into his chair with a more obvious roll of his eyes. He should have gone riding with Nami.

"Besides, I repaired that fence weeks ago," the first farmer said. "You then proceeded to take an axe to it."

"Because when you repaired it, you moved it to take some of my property," the other accused.

"The ground was no good around the original post, I had to move it. And it was barely the length of my finger." He held up his middle finger as an example, and the other man went to lunge at him. He was restrained by Iceburg's men, much to Kid's disappointment, while the first farmer grinned smugly. Kid wished the farce would just end, and if a fight broke out, it would make the time wasted far more worthwhile.

Iceburg sighed as he sat straight, tucking his mouse into his vest's pocket. "Enough of this," he called out over the chaos on the verge of erupting in the hall. Everyone stilled, and the angry farmer shoved from the guards' hold, sparing a sneer for his neighbor before facing the Jarl. Iceburg pointed to the first farmer. "Do you admit that this sheep wandered onto your property because of a broken fence?"

The man pursed his lips and shot a glare at his neighbor. "Yes, but…"

Iceburg raised his hand to silence him and turned to the other. "And do you admit to destroying the fence after your neighbor took the time and expense to repair it the first time?"

"Yes, but…" He was silenced with another wave of Iceburg's hand.

"As far as I can see it, you have both wronged the other in this pointless feud." Iceburg pointed at the first farmer. "You will return this man his property, without further question." He pointed to the other farmer. "And you will pay a fine to your neighbor for destruction of a shared fence he repaired. You will also see to repairing the fence this second time since you are responsible for the damage. You would not have lost part of you flock if you had gone about this property dispute amicably, so be grateful I do not reward your neighbor with your sheep."

The farmer hissed, but raised no argument.

Iceburg raised his voice to address the free people within the room. "Does this judgement seem fair to everyone here?" A chorus of agreement rang around the hall. "Then so be it." Iceburg pointed at one of his men standing off to his side. "Tilestone, I trust you to go with these men and oversee the repairs of the fence so it is agreeable to both parties."

Tilestone nodded, and waved for the two farmers to move toward the door with him. Kid sighed in relief, hoping the assembly would be done after that idiotic disagreement, but as soon as two more men took the center of the room, he slumped lower in his chair with a groan.

Iceburg glanced at another of his men. "I thought that was the last of them, Lulu?"

"This is over a dispute that occurred this morning," Lulu explained. He pointed to the man on the left first. "This man accuses the other of inappropriate behavior toward his wife." Kid perked up when he noticed a sullen looking woman hiding behind her husband, her eyes downcast with only a faint flickering look at the other. She radiated fear, and Kid sat up straighter as he looked over the accused. He clutched a bloodstained cloth to his right hand. "And the man he accused of assaulting his wife claims that he was attacked without cause."

"He cut off two of my fingers," the man called out. "I was merely talking to her."

"You cornered her against a wall and tried to kiss her," the husband yelled back. "And it is not your first offense against her. You were lucky I didn't slit your throat when I caught you touching her again."

"I never touched her unwillingly," the first claimed. "She invited it."

Iceburg frowned as he looked between the two men, and then settled his gaze on the woman at the center of their fight. She shrunk behind her husband until Iceburg waved for her to come forward. She did so meekly and did her best to keep at a safe distance from the other man.

"Please tell us what happened, both for this and prior instances," Iceburg commanded calmly.

"He was always friendly with me when I was tending our cart in the market. Nothing more than nice conversation. But then he started touching me. I thought it innocent at first – playing with a lock of my hair, or the sleeve of my dress. I would tell him to stop, and he would stop. Then he began to follow me when I was alone. He grabbed me outside of my home and tried to kiss me one night. My husband found us and would have killed him then, but I stopped him. We fined him and he swore to never do it again." She paused to sniffle while the accused's face turned red with anger. She refused to look at him again. "This time I fear he meant to steal more than a kiss…. If my husband had not been near…" She trailed off as her husband placed a hand on her shoulder, bracing her as she swayed.

The accused erupted.

"She's a lying witch," he shouted. "That bitch kissed me first. She begged me to take her. She swore she meant to divorce her husband and would have sooner if not out of fear he would harm me." He raised his bloody hand as though it were damning evidence. "She's a liar and a whore…"

The husband moved faster than Iceburg's men and shut the assaulter up with a heavy fist to the jaw. If they were permitted weapons, Kid had no doubt he would have split his head open with an axe instead.

"Restrain them," Iceburg called out over the brawl breaking out. Kid couldn't stop grinning. This was the part of governance he enjoyed, though he would have let them fight a little longer. The husband had an obvious advantage, too; he would likely kill the man who wronged his wife. Unfortunately, Iceburg's men managed to pull them apart, but not before both were bloody and bruised. Though Kid suspected most of the blood on the husband belonged to his opponent. The only injury that stood out on him was a split lip, while the assaulter had an eye already swelling shut, a gash on his cheek, and a broken nose.

Iceburg sighed while scrubbing at the scruff along his jaw. After a moment of thought, he waved for the wife to come closer and leaned forward to speak with her at a hush.

"Tell me true, did you mean to divorce your husband for this man?" He gestured at the assaulter who spat a clot onto the rush at his feet.

The wife shook her head vigorously. "We're newly married and trying for a child. My husband is a good man, good provider, and has never treated me unfairly, never raised a hand to me in anger. I have no reason to leave him."

"This other man wasn't an old lover? A prior suitor?" Iceburg tried. "Someone you once wished to marry before your current husband?"

"No," she said with hushed alarm. "My marriage was by my choice. I love my husband. I never mean to leave him."

Iceburg sat back with a satisfied nod and waved for her to take her place with her husband. "Were there any witnesses to this incident?"

"There was one," the husband said. "A slave boy from the market saw my wife crying out and found me."

"A slave?" the other man spat in disbelief. "You would take a slave's word over mine?"

"Where is this boy?" Iceburg said, still calm as the room shifted and searched. A man stepped out of the hall and returned a second later to shove a boy no older then twelve toward the center of the room. The child was covered in filth, dressed in rags and ill-fitting shoes. The man who brought him in continued to push him along until they both stood before the Jarl.

"Are you this boy's master?" Iceburg asked the free man.

"I am," he said gruffly. The scowl he wore and the simmering disdain in his eyes as he looked at the child said he wasn't pleased to be at the center of the scandal.

"Will you permit the child to speak on this affair?"

"If he needs to be heard, then I give permission," the man answered, nodding.

"Boy, tell us what you saw," Iceburg commanded.

"The lady… she was between houses, away from her cart. He had her by the hair and was pulling her from the road. She was screaming and tried to hit him, but he slapped her, told her to shut up."

"And what did you do when you saw this?"

"I went to my master, he was talking with her husband, my lord. Selling him a baby pig," he said. "I did'n know that he was her husband, but I knew the lady from the market. My master bought a fine cloak for his daughter from her once. And I've heard others say she is very kind to everyone."

"You cannot believe him! Slave's lie. He was probably promised an extra blanket for the night to tell this story," the accused bellowed, spitting bloody saliva everywhere. "I swear it on the gods that I am telling the truth."

Iceburg's gaze snapped to the man, his eyes narrowed in anger. "I am more apt to believe this child, slave or not, over a man accused of attempted rape. And I have no doubt you have angered the gods you swear your own lies on."

The man spluttered while Iceburg waved the slave and his master away.

"I believe the wife in this matter, and therefore her husband, unless anyone else can come forward to deny her claims that her marriage is a happy one," Iceburg stated as he looked around the room. No one stepped forward, unsurprisingly. The Jarl turned to Kid and leaned over the arm of his chair to address him. "What do you think, Jarl Eustass? Who do you think is telling the truth?"

"The wife. Even that slave is more honest than this scum. Hell, Loki himself could come in here and weave some fantastic lie, and it'd still be more true than what he claims," Kid said, chuckling. "And I'd say he got off lucky with only a few fingers lost."

"What punishment do you think is more fitting?"

"Let the husband cut off his manhood. He's a poor excuse for a man, so he has no need for it." Kid grinned at the man who was beginning to look pale. "And if the gods will it, the knife will slip and cut off his life, too."

Iceburg sat straight again, and looked out to the others in the room. "By a show of hands, who all here believes this man guilty of attempting to rape this free woman?" Every hand in the room went up, not a single person hesitating. The accused turned to flee, but Iceburg's men grabbed him and had him in shackles before he could take a single step. "As for the criminal's punishment, who agrees with Jarl Eustass' suggestion?" This time there was some hesitance from a few people, mostly men who grimaced at the thought of such a demise, but eventually every hand went up in agreement. Iceburg nodded solemnly. "Our people have laws for a reason, and you have committed a vile crime. Our laws are clear in this matter. No man may touch a free woman if she does not wish it. No man may harm a woman outside of battle. For breaking both of these laws, and coming before this assembly with a mouth full of lies, I hereby declare you an outlaw and sentence you to emasculation. And if the gods deem your life unworthy of continuing, may your spirit remain in Niflhel to suffer until the end of time."

The room erupted in shouts of agreement. A few men came forward to spit on the accused, further cursing his fate. Over the chaos, Iceburg stood and waved at his men.

"Chain him like a dog in the square. We'll see to his sentence once this assembly has concluded," he ordered.

The prisoner was dragged out with a flurry of curses and strikes from the people in the hall. He continued to fight his captors until one struck him hard on the back of the head. He fell limp in their arms and dangled between the two men holding him. Once the hall doors shut behind them, Iceburg fell back into his chair with an exhausted groan.

"Are we done now?" he asked Lulu. "I say we're done now," he decided before the man could say otherwise, and waved at the citizens still crowding the hall. "Go on out to the square. We'll get the sentencing over with." As everyone began to file toward the door, Iceburg turned back to Lulu. "Have you heard what we're having for supper yet? I'm hungry." Lulu answered with a shrug, and Iceburg turned away with a petulant huff. "When is Kalifa due back with the others? She would know."

"They took the longer route up. So not for a few hours yet," Lulu said, prompting Iceburg to huff again. "I'm sure one of the servants can get you something."

"You won't tell Kalifa?" Iceburg asked, glancing around the emptying hall. "She'll lecture me on ruining my appetite if she heard."

"I will swear everyone to secrecy." Lulu nodded.

Iceburg clapped his hands together and grinned. "Good. Then let's get this punishment over with so I can eat."

Kid was just as eager to see the spectacle out in the square, though not for any other reason than to witness a lowly piece of shit get exactly what he deserved. He jumped from his chair to follow Iceburg out to the square. Outside, he saw that the hour was later than he thought, with the sun already beginning to fall over the sea to the west. He blamed the bickering over that damn sheep for pushing the assembly so long.

He remained on the porch of the large hall with Iceburg, giving them both a clear view over the crowd circling the prisoner. They had already begun doling out extra punishment, pelting the man with rotten vegetables the servants had brought out. There was a splatter of fresh blood on the dirt in front of him, a bloodstained rock nearby the obvious culprit. Even if he survived the emasculation, the people in the square were eager for more blood to be shed. He wouldn't last more than a few minutes if he didn't bleed out from his wound quickly.

The crowd calmed and ceased their pelting once they noticed Iceburg. He waved at the husband, gesturing that he approach the captive. The man took a step toward the assaulter hanging limp in his chains, but stopped when his wife placed a hand on his arm. Kid was amused to see the woman pull him down so she could whisper in his ear while slipping him her own knife. When her husband gave a resolute nod, she kissed his cheek and pushed him forward with a smile.

He knew in that moment the man would not survive his punishment. And his death certainly wouldn't be the will of the gods. Sometimes it was far more dangerous to cross a woman than a god.

The square became completely still and silent, save for the sound of the husband's footsteps, the captive's chains sliding against the stake he was tied to, and faintly, off in the distance, you could hear the sea rolling against the shore. Everyone waited on bated breath, expectations rising with every step the husband took.

When he reached the criminal, he made him stand straight, pushed his head back so he might look him in the eye. Fear made the criminal shut his eyes, but he remained tall as he set his weight against the pillar. He was already going to die a dishonorable death, might as well face it with some sense of honor intact. He swallowed thickly the moment he was freed from his trousers, and the men in the crowd noticeably shifted, but no one said anything to stop what came next.

Blood sprayed against the ground and splattered onto the husband's chest. The other man cried out and shuddered in agony until his voice was drowned by the roar of the people. He fell limp, racked with quaking sobs, but didn't fall to the ground. He was still alive, the knife didn't slip, much to Kid's disappointment.

The husband stood calm and uncaring as he tossed the removed piece to the ground. For a moment Kid thought it was over, that he had chosen to let the man suffer a long, agonizing death, or an even longer, agonizing life. He took a step back, only further making the crowd believe that fate.

And then he slit the outlaw's throat.

An audible gasp came from the crowd. The husband tossed the knife away and turned his back on the man seizing and gurgling while the rest of them watched him in the throes of death. As the assaulter finally slipped down the post he was chained to, the husband went to his wife to wrap her up in his arms, both obviously relieved that they no longer had reason to worry.

Kid looked to the other Jarl and chuckled. "Would you say that's by the gods' will?"

Iceburg glowered as he played with his mouse. "He was judged an outlaw. It no longer matters if the gods willed it or not. Our laws don't protect criminals like him." The Jarl looked to him, his frown pursed. "And we all know a woman's will holds far greater power than a god's."

Kid found that amusing, and quite true. That was probably why he so easily handed Nami all his gold.

"Dump the body in a pit somewhere," Iceburg ordered one of his men as he turned to go back into his hall. "Join me for another drink, Jarl Eustass. I think we have a while still before the ladies return."

* * *

The hall was bright and warm with the fire roaring, and Kid was well into his cups by nightfall. Supper was being served amid joyous conversation and raucous song. He was slumped in a chair beside Iceburg, his feet resting comfortably on the stone hearth, as they watched two young boys dance around the hall with wood swords. Another boy, older than the others, wore Kid's pelt over his head as he claimed to be the great wolf Fenrir, set upon them to devour their world. It was an amusing spectacle, a story and a game that had all the men laughing and cheering for each child hero that took up a sword against the beast.

Fenrir had just slain Tyr when Nami and the rest of her company returned to the hall.

"I see you've been hard at work, Kid," Nami said as she made her way through the other guests.

Kid looked away from the boys once she reached the fire. She held her hands out, warming them over the flames. He had heard the winds pick up only an hour before, and another guest remarked that the air had grown chill. Kid hadn't been bothered by the weather, not when he had his ale and his fire and his song.

"I will have you know, I worked very hard today," he said with a snort. "I've earned my ale, unlike someone who thinks she can ride around a hill all day without a care in the world."

Nami rolled her eyes, but he could see her hiding a smile as she took a cup of ale from Halle.

"And not only that, but she still turns my men into her servant boys," he added, laughing. "Did they sing for you again?"

"They didn't sing," Nami said with a mocking lilt. "But Halle and Finn both promised me a song tonight."

"How am I not surprised?" he teased.

She swatted his shoulder, but her eyes sparkled with honest amusement. He watched her take off her cloak and hand it to a passing servant before settling into a chair at his side. She was in a good mood. The excursion must have gone well.

"So what did you do today that earned you your ale?" she asked, turning back to him with a smile.

"The ship's repaired save for the sail, but Franky's promised that his thralls will have that finished by the morning. And then that bastard," he said, gesturing to Iceburg whose attention was on Kalifa and the men who accompanied them, "made me sit with him in the assembly. I think I deserve all the drink I desire after listening to people bicker about sheep."

"You should have come with us," she said with wicked amusement.

"That would have been more boring," he claimed, refusing to admit that he had thought the same earlier. "At least the assembly ended with some bloodshed to make it worthwhile."

Nami gasped and turned to him, wide-eyed with surprise. "Bloodshed? Don't tell me the farmers fought?"

"No, though they tried. Another man was accused of attempting to rape a woman… There…" He gestured with his cup to the husband and wife sitting together at a table in the corner. "The husband caught them, took a few fingers before they were brought before us. The man was declared an outlaw and I suggested the husband cut off the bastard's dick since he didn't deserve to use it. Everyone agreed with the sentence."

"Oh…" Nami breathed out, stunned. "That is definitely a fitting punishment."

Kid chuckled. "The husband slit his throat right after." He frowned when he saw her gaze fixed on the couple. She wore a sullen frown that had him curious. He dropped his feet from the hearth and leaned toward her. "You take issue with the sentence?"

"What?" Nami blinked and shook her head, snapping herself from whatever thoughts plagued her, and turned to glower at him. "Of course not. That is not a crime one should show mercy toward."

"Then why the anxious look?" he asked lowly.

Her lips pursed tight, she glanced around the room, and then she leaned closer to speak softly. "It just reminded me… I need to speak to you about Gunda…"

He furrowed his brows in confusion before looking around the hall. He hadn't noticed the shieldmaiden's absence until that moment, which only left him more curious of what had Nami so concerned. He was about to tell her to say what she had to, but paused when Kalifa came to stand before him with a stern frown.

His gaze flickered between the two women. Whatever Nami wanted to speak of was probably more important, but he could see that Kalifa had business of her own with him. Nami sat back, silently signaling that their talk could wait.

"What is it?" he asked the blonde, slumping back in his chair as he glared at her.

"I want to go to England with you," Kalifa stated firmly.

Kid was shocked speechless and looked to Nami for an explanation. She had spent the whole day with the woman, surely she knew what had brought this on. She stared back expectantly. She did know, but she wasn't going to explain. He fixed his glare on Kalifa again as she stood straight and firm.

"Why?"

"I have been there before, and I wish to see the lands again," she explained. A hand waved blithely toward Nami. "And I believe the lady of your house would benefit from more female companionship while waiting for you men to finish your slaughters."

He bit back a growl at the insulting tone she used, but didn't restrain his sneer. "She already has Gunda."

"And the shieldmaiden is especially in need of extra companionship," she argued. "I will not be dead weight. I mean to go and act as another shieldmaiden to protect Lady Nami."

"You? A shieldmaiden?" He couldn't help but laugh, but one look at Nami said they were both serious about this matter. "Truly? You want to go to protect her?"

"If you do not believe I am capable of it, you may ask your own men." She pointed toward Axel a few feet away. When the man caught them looking at him, his gaze flit nervously between Kid and Kalifa. He gave a short nod coupled with a grimace, and raised his cup to the woman who looked even haughtier at the respectful salute. "Do I have your leave to join you?"

"Tsk." Kid scowled as he thought over her request. She didn't look like the type to accept a no with grace. But, if she could shake Axel as she had, then she likely wasn't incapable of protecting herself and Nami. Iceburg had even said she was stronger than she looked. He knew Nami would favor the idea, even if Kalifa frightened her at first. She always welcomed the company of other women, and she held an implicit trust in any woman who took up a shield. And somehow Gunda fit into all this, likely connected to what Nami wanted to talk with him about. He was beginning to get an idea of what subject that discussion would broach.

"What does your Jarl have to say on this? You should be asking his permission first."

"I've already told him that I mean to go with you," she said flatly.

Kid's brow rose and he glanced to Iceburg in silent question.

"If she wants to go, then she does not need my permission to go," Iceburg explained before muttering into his ale. "Not that she would ever bother to _ask_."

With a heavy sigh, Kid made himself more comfortable in his chair and gave the woman a nod. "You may come, then."

Kalifa smiled politely and bowed her head in thanks.

"We wish to go, as well," Kaku spoke up from Iceburg's other side, prompting his Jarl to spit out his ale in surprise when he saw Lucci nodding his own desire to go.

"Who's going to help me oversee the village?" Iceburg asked, looking between the three. "It's bad enough that Kalifa wishes to go, but you two, as well? That's a third of my most trusted people."

"You can hide in your room until we return and let Paulie handle all the business in your stead," Kalifa said. "You need not work any harder than you want to."

"Don't volunteer me to do all of your work," Paulie fumed. "Maybe I want to go to England, too."

"Jarl Iceburg needs you here more. You will only get in our way in England," Lucci said flatly. He didn't blink an eye as Paulie turned to growl at him.

Iceburg groaned. "Fine. Any who wish to go with Jarl Eustass to England may go, barring they have his permission."

That single statement prompted the hall to erupt in shouts from men who wished to join in on the raid. Iceburg threw up his hands in defeat, and Kid let his head fall back, shutting his eyes in exhaustion. It would be useful to have the extra swords, but they would have to split their hoard with even more people. At least he would have more warriors to guard their camp and Nami.

"If they join us, they will need to supply their own ships," Kid said, sitting straight. "I could have spared room for the woman on my ship, perhaps fit the other two men on my other boats. I can't fit another army in them."

"That's fine. I'll let them take a ship or two, however many they need," Iceburg agreed. He smirked and leaned forward, his cup held out to Kid. "I expect you all to return with an impressive hoard."

Chuckling, Kid held his cup to him in turn. "We'll bring back every gold coin and chalice we find." He cast his gaze to Nami. "I'm certain Freya herself will desire some of the treasure, too."

Nami appeared stunned for a moment, but shook the expression away to smile at him.

"Just make sure you save some for me," she jested.

Kid laughed as he gave her a playful shove. "I swear this woman's been set on robbing me blind since the day we met." He ruffled her hair when she merely grinned in response. "I'm going to be the poorest Jarl in Noreg with you around."

She batted him away while everyone laughed at her cheeks puffing in annoyance. Before he could tease her more, and be teased in return, a group of men surrounded them and talk turned back to the raids. Nami took a plate from a servant and struck up a conversation with Kalifa as she ate. It was a few hours before Kid was able to talk to her without others interrupting, and by that point Nami was ready for bed, and he was feeling the ale enough to have his own bed calling to him.

Once she waved off Halle, who had Finn's arm slung around his shoulders to help haul him to their quarters, Kid leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You wanted to talk about Gunda," he reminded.

The errant reminder startled her, and she jumped in surprise. "Oh, yes," she said. She looked around the room and then nodded toward the door. "Can we talk outside? I don't know if this is something to discuss with others around to overhear."

He nodded in understanding and stood with a tired groan. He stole his cloak back from the boy who had been wearing the fur earlier. He was passed out on a table, sleeping off his ale, and didn't stir once when Kid plucked the cloak off him. Nami found her own cloak hung on a hook near the door and waited for him as she secured it around her shoulders. As soon as they stepped into the chilly breeze, Nami pulled her fur higher to shelter her face from the wind. Kid thoughtlessly moved closer, inviting her to press against his arm and leech some of his warmth as they walked through the square toward a path leading down the hill.

"What happened?" he asked once they no longer heard the muffled din of the hall.

"Nothing… At least I don't know if anything happened…" Nami answered uncertainly. "Before we left this morning, she was acting nervous, anxious. I was worried that something was bothering her, and she said that she was worried about going to England. She was afraid for my safety there."

"You'll be well guarded. Even before we got the additional forces joining us, and that woman volunteering to act as a guard, you wouldn't have been put in any danger," Kid said.

"That wasn't what she was worried about…" Nami said softly, trailing off as she glanced up to see his curious frown. "I've seen how men are on raids, what some do to the women they capture…"

"Ah." He nodded. Now he understood why she brought it up when he told her of the trial.

"She said she doesn't trust the men away from home, but she shouldn't have any concern over what might happen to us. We're free women. Even in other lands, our laws still protect us. Even Arlong and his men didn't treat me differently while on a raid. I was still viewed as a free woman, different from the people they captured. I was shielded," Nami reasoned. "But Gunda said that men are too unpredictable in battle, and I'm afraid that she's experienced something in the past to give her cause for concern."

Kid took a deep breath and looked up toward the star-filled sky. "She has only ever been on one raid," he began, pursing his lips in a scowl. "I can't say much on what happened. I was a child at the time. I only know what I know through gossip, though I did discuss the matter with Heat when I was thinking to bring you both to England. His mother was the village's healer before him. She examined Gunda when they returned from the raid, at the request of her brothers."

"What happened? I would ask Gunda, but I don't think she wishes to talk about it. She ran away before I could question her more."

He didn't care for this subject, so he could understand why Gunda wouldn't wish to be pressed on it, but Nami was obviously worried for her friend. She trusted Kid to be honest about what he knew. He stopped along the path and turned to face her.

"According to what I have been told, she took exception with the way the men were treating some of the captives they took as slaves. An argument turned into a physical fight…" He scratched at the bristles growing along his jaw as he tried to find the best way to word it, but he knew there was no way to sweeten the story for her ears. "Her brothers had been raiding with another party. When they returned, they found her sobbing in their tent, her clothes torn, and face a bloody mess. She refused to be touched by any man, including the healers, but she allowed her brothers to tend to her. They accused the Jarl's brother of raping her, but he swore her injuries were from battle. When they returned to Drafn, Heat's mother examined her. She was a maiden when she left, untouched and only sixteen… She said it was obvious that was no longer the case, and not by choice. Rape leaves certain injuries that Heat's mother recognized immediately."

"So? The Jarl's brother? Was he punished?" Nami asked, too stunned to say more.

"Heat's mother was silenced," Kid said flatly. He knew Nami understood as her eyes widened. "I don't know what the Jarl did to keep the brothers from raising their accusations again, but the matter was dropped after the trial declared his own brother innocent. After that, Gunda refused to go raiding again, and the Jarl's family allowed her to stay behind and protect their women. I suspect it had something to do with the fact that Gunda and her family were still servants, even if free. Their grandfather was a bondsmen, so they were still looked down upon as though they were slaves. Not many would have taken their word. Any further complaint could come with harsh penalties, they could be outcast and killed. It was best for them to remain silent and continue to serve."

"So it was over just like that? He got away with it?" Nami asked, rightfully furious. "He raped a free woman and wasn't punished?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Kid muttered, spinning away to continue their walk. "I told you that Jarl was a corrupt bastard. Swore to uphold the law, but he and his family broke more laws than anyone I know, and swore it all in the name of their own justice, or as the will of the gods. It was all horse shit."

Nami hurried to catch up with him as his longer strides headed toward the shore. He slowed as soon as her hand touched his arm, and looked down at her. She was still angry, but it was tempered with obvious concern.

"I've only ever heard you curse about the former Jarl," she said, tugging at his arm to make him stop again. "I don't think I've heard you say one genuinely nice thing about him or his family. The closest would be that he let you build his boats and raid with him, and for that you didn't involve yourself in the issues others had with him. But clearly you saw how cruel he was. Why didn't you fight against him sooner?"

He clenched his teeth and looked at a point over her head. As willing as he was to talk about his fight with the former Jarl, his dislike of the man and his family, her question wasn't one he could easily answer, not without bringing up history he didn't care to talk about with anyone.

"It was complicated," he said carefully.

"What could make it so complicated? He was obviously a criminal, and using his title to shelter those close to him from punishment. He was willfully hurting the people under his protection and leadership. Did you care so little about the others in the village?"

He felt his temper thin at that accusation. While he held little regard from a number of villagers in his lifetime, he hadn't been completely indifferent to their plight. He had only known of the hoard the Jarl kept for himself at first, hardly understood some of the other crimes he heard of offhand until he was older.

"I said it was complicated," he growled, but her grip on his arm tightened and her gaze was firm and stubborn. She wasn't going to be satisfied with anything less than the truth. He leaned down, leveling his sneer on her. "As I said, wasn't the first time that bastard buried a rape."

Nami was stunned speechless, with her jaw hanging open. He knew she was smart enough to put it together. Her hold slackened in her surprise, allowing him to rip his arm away and spin on his heel to walk toward the shore. If he was lucky, she would be too shocked to follow. But when he reached the rocks lining the shore, he wasn't surprised to hear her racing after him.

"Kid," she called, but he kept walking, balancing over the rocks as he headed toward the patch of sand at the water's edge. She wasn't deterred so easily. She wouldn't be Nami if she wasn't so stubborn. "Wait."

He listened to her shoes scrape over the damp rocks. She huffed and growled with every cautious step that kept her from catching up to him. Once he stepped onto the beach, Nami skipped over the last few rocks before he could get too far with the surer footing, and ran to cut off his escape. He came to a halt before he could crash into her and glowered down at her. She glared at first, but it quickly softened with sympathy and remorse. He would have rather had her glaring and obstinate, not looking at him with such pity in her gaze.

"Don't…" he warned.

Her eyes hardened again. That was better, even if he could still see a glimmer of sorrow.

"You're his son," she said matter-of-factly after a moment. "That's why-"

"I ain't his son," he interrupted. Confusion furrowed her brows. She really wasn't letting this go. With a soft growl, he relented to her wishes. "I was his _bastard_. One that could have ruined him if anyone found out how I came to be."

He eyed her warily, trying to see what reaction that fact garnered. She stared up at him with honest curiosity. He could find no harsh judgement in her eyes, only concern. With a heavy sigh, he threw himself down to sit in the sand, and silently played with the cold, wet grains until Nami eased down to sit beside him.

"When he was dying, you know what he told me? He said that there had been a prophecy foretelling his death, that a child born of wrath would bring his demise." He chuckled wryly at how true that prophecy came to be. And now he sat there with a seer who had only ever seen his own death.

Nami didn't speak, but he felt her weight settle against his arm. He didn't know why it comforted him, but his shoulders relaxed with the next breath he took.

"My grandfather owned the farm that now belongs to Killer," he began, the story bubbling up to the surface with her quiet support. "He was Killer's great-uncle. The man had no sons to inherit, but his sister had a son – Killer's father. He took over the farm, let me and my mother live there in a little hut near the river. That was when I began to build boats. Tiny ones at first, just big enough to float a mouse down the river. We didn't have much and we never ventured to the village, but those were the better days. Even if my mother wasn't that warm to me. She still sat and watched me chase after my boats. Sometimes she would cry, but I didn't understand why back then…"

He took a deep breath as Nami's arm wound around his while he idly traced a finger through the sand, drawing the river he played in as a child. His chest ached with a hollow weight. That was why he didn't care for telling anyone the true nature of his family. He didn't like the way it hurt. But Nami was warm, a comfort he never felt before.

"Then one day the Jarl comes unannounced, sees me playing with Killer around the barn. That was the first time I met his sons. They were older than me and Killer. They had to be in their teens around then. I was showing Killer the new boat I made, had it floating in a puddle. Those little shits came over laughing, called me a filthy mutt and kicked me into the mud. Said that's where a runt like me belongs… Then they destroyed my boat." Nami's arm tightened around his and she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. "Told you they were awful."

Nami nodded against his arm. She still didn't say a word. She would patiently let him speak at his own pace now that he was sharing this history with her.

"You can probably imagine how I reacted then," he said with a snort. "Picked myself up from the mud and threw myself at them. I was barely even eight then, can't remember ever being so angry before that day. But that rage came so quick, so easy." He couldn't stop himself from laughing with dark amusement. "If I had my hands on an axe or sword, I would have killed them. I wasn't even afraid of them hurting me. I just wanted their blood on my hands."

Nami's fingers began to brush over his arm, circling gently. It was a soothing touch that drew his gaze down to see her staring off at the sea. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but that was fine. All that mattered to him now was that she was listening.

"Took four grown men to drag me away from the boys. They put me in shackles in the barn while the Jarl talked with Killer's father. My mother had refused to come out of the house the whole time he was there, and her cousin wouldn't allow the Jarl in. That was a grave insult, but apparently it wasn't the first he faced from my family.

"They ended up arguing outside the barn about me. That was when I learned who exactly the Jarl was to me, why my mother didn't want to see him… He demanded my cousin release me to him. He wished to claim me…" He glanced down at her as he remembered the tale of her clan. They were not so different there. "Not as a son."

She snapped her head up to look at him with wide-eyes. She understood what that meant, and she was likely thinking the same as he.

He looked back out to the sea. "My cousin refused. He said that I had never mattered to him before, so why should I matter then. He said that I only came to exist because the Jarl was angry with my grandfather after he refused to part with a piece of his land the Jarl desired. In retaliation for what he thought was an insult, he lured my mother from the farm, and raped her. She never took me to the village because she didn't want the Jarl to see me. She feared that he would kill me, or her, or both of us, to keep the truth from coming out. She was cold to me, and only gave me the name Kid because she thought I was doomed to die as soon as I met the Jarl. Turns out he didn't give a shit about me, if people thought I was his bastard, or if my mother accused him of rape. He could bury it easily enough… And he did. No one outside of our family knew."

"If you were fated to be his demise, then why did he wish to take you?" Nami asked softly. "Why didn't he take measures to avoid it."

"He was a greedy man. Greedier than you, I'd say. And selfish. He didn't think much of what would come if he took me into his household. He would brand me a slave so he could kill me as soon as I became too much of a threat. All he cared about was exploiting my strength for his own gain in battle, and using my skills at boatbuilding to increase his fleet."

"How did they keep him from taking you, then?"

"Killer takes after his father quite a bit. He was a calm and quiet man on the surface, but sharp, intelligent in battle and in diplomacy. He was strong and quick, too. My grandfather had been an old man, not much of a threat, but the Jarl didn't dare to make an enemy of my cousins, so they negotiated a deal. The Jarl was given the plot of land he wanted, and in exchange he was not to return to our farm or speak to me again. I eventually grew to think the deal cowardly, and a cruel insult to my mother. She had been raped because of that stupid land, and her cousin just handed it over without a second thought. I tried to fight him over it when I was a teen…" He chuckled. "That man smacked me down before I could blink and lectured me for my disrespect. He made me clean out the pig sty for a month after. I hated that chore. He'd be damn proud of the man his son turned into."

Nami squeezed his arm and sank into him even more. He looked down to see her wearing a solemn smile. "Has Killer made you clean out the sty?"

Kid laughed. "Unfortunately. He also makes me shoe the horses if I give him too much attitude. That's just tedious work and I always end up getting kicked a few times for it."

Nami snickered quietly as she continued to hug his arm. As she calmed, silence overtook them, one that neither of them seemed willing to break too soon. He was content sitting there with her comforting warmth pressed to him, her fingers still idly tracing over his arm. The moon and stars glittered off the sea. It was peaceful. He even forgot that it was cold.

"So how did you come to work for the Jarl?"

"When I was older, I just wanted to fight. I approached the Jarl with an offer to join his forces and build his ships. Part of me hoped I might get a chance to help him or his sons die in battle, without anyone seeing the murder. But the Jarl…" He frowned. "He was sly. His tongue was a deceitfully charming as Loki's. He made me believe he was proud of me. Rejoiced in my strength. He fed my ego whenever I was around, and as soon as I was out of earshot, he mocked me right along with the rest of them. His sons regularly picked fights with me. I had been naïve enough to think that they might grow to see me as a brother, the way the Jarl pretended to treat me like a son. I thought their anger was out of envy, thought it would pass as they got older. It only grew worse, but I had become so blinded by the thought of having this family I hadn't known before that I didn't want to see it for the mockery that it was. They said I never should have been born in the first place. Reminded me I was nothing more than a mutt, and that it would be better for everyone if I just died in ditch somewhere. Instead I hid in my shipyard and built my boats, then went to battle with them as though nothing were amiss. I was happy to see them die first, and miserable deaths. I thought then the Jarl would see me as his true son and the misery would be over. He all but shunned me after he lost his true born sons. I was no good to him outside of a battlefield."

Nami remained silent after his answer. She seemed to be deep in thought when he peered down at her. He wanted to know what she thought, but he didn't dare ask.

"What…" She began but paused to narrow her eyes in thought. "How did you come by the name Eustass? You said your mother only ever called you Kid."

He let out a shaky breath at that question. She was set on making him relive every heartache from his past.

"My mother gave it to me on her deathbed. She had grown ill after I went to work for the Jarl. Killer and his father moved her into their home to care for her, but I came to visit whenever I could. The last time I saw her was when she gave me the name. She said it was her father's name, that it was far more suitable for a man as obstinate as me…. And that a man destined for greatness needed a name fitting of legends." He bowed his head, glad he had taken his hair down from its tail earlier. The long strands fell over his face like a veil, hiding him from Nami's gaze. "That was the first time I ever saw her smile. She looked so proud, and I had done nothing but work for the man who raped her. I didn't deserve her pride then. I didn't deserve the name. But I vowed that I would earn it. I would be the man she saw, that she was so proud of." He cleared his throat as it grew tight. "Trust me when I say that no man will go unpunished for a crime as long as I am in charge. No matter who they are. No man will harm a free woman outside of battle, and he will never take her by force. If he does, even if he is one of my brothers, he will be punished as harshly as that man had been today. My rule is absolute."

"Then you've already earned your name," Nami said, not a trace of derision in her tone. He dared to glance at her through his hair and found her staring up at him. She looked so resolute, so stubborn. She wouldn't let him deny those words. Slowly she began to smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and he felt his breath leave him. "She had good reason to be proud." His jaw slackened as his chest tightened. Her smile kept him from looking away as she hugged his arm to her chest affectionately. "And I, for one, am very glad you were born."

Those words stung, yet still he laughed. The sound was filled with pain, as was his grin, and he finally turned away as he forced it to turn into a scowl. Only Nami had the gall to strike him so deep, but he could never be angry for it. A part of him was glad to hear it. Not many in the world would even think that much of him, let alone say it aloud. And he already knew she would be one of the few to mourn his inevitable death. How she could care so much for him, he didn't understand.

He found one of her hands with his and held it tight against his arm, silently showing his gratitude and urging her to stay at his side a while longer. He refused to look at her, even as they both leaned against each other, supporting one and other as they stared off at the sea.

He did understand one thing. He could not fail her. Even if the gods willed otherwise, he would destroy her fears and set her free. Nothing would stand in his way.

Not even death.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I hope this chapter wasn't too difficult to read for everyone. This is a subject that I won't go all Game of Thrones on and explicitly describe scenes of rape. If I did, I'd be posting this to AO3 for sure, or the adult fanfiction site. But this is a subject that obviously carries weight for the characters, and is one that needs to be addressed when looking at their society. Especially since when people think of Vikings, one of the things they think of is raping and pillaging, so I wanted to look at the difference between their actions on raids, and their laws back home. Unlike the rest of Europe at this time, the Norse did not see their women as the property of men, and while their free women might not have been viewed as equals in all aspects, they commanded a great deal of respect and any crime against them was severely punished. A crime against a woman, was a crime against a free person, one who is seen as being close to the gods, with magic that can curse you (so they also had a good dose of fear of their women, too). Their laws on this matter were very similar to the laws of ancient, pagan Rome, before Christianization. In comparison, since the rest of Europe viewed women in terms of property during this time, crimes against them viewed the same as crimes to another man's property, and the woman could be punished alongside her attacker for either 'consenting' to the rape, or being an accomplice for not doing more to prevent it, and punishment could range from a fine, to disinheritance, to death (for both parties)._

 _And I believe I've stated before in other author's notes, but I actually see Kid having a particular disdain for rape and generally incapable of the act. He is violent, and after battle he is definitely the type to want to have sex, but he finds more enjoyment in taking willing partners, and his pride demands it. In this fic, I obviously give him additional reason to abhor the act. And it's very weird to have him as the one upholding laws in this, but I can see him, as a pirate captain, having his own strict code on his ship in terms of how the crew is to treat each other and any one they permit on board as a guest (not a captive), which is similar to the way the Vikings viewed their own laws and what behavior is acceptable in different circumstances. It's probably part of why he is so judgmental of the noble class that claims to uphold justice, but are obviously hypocrites, corrupt, and sometimes even worse monsters then the people labeled as villains to their rule. He's honest that he's not a good man, but the people that are under his protection have no reason to fear him unless they break one of his rules._

 _Oh, and just so you know, the slow-burn aspect of this romance right now is killing me, and I hope it's the same for all of you. :)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Warning: Descriptions of violence and gore in this chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Revelations_

Nami sensed that Kid wanted to linger at the beach after they talked of his family, and he wanted her to stay with him. She was content at his side, so said nothing as they sat in a peaceful silence. She was taking in this new piece of Kid's life, and coming to see him in another light. Over the weeks she had known him, she had learned plenty about how he ran his village and treated those within his household. She could see now why he commanded such respect. And she could see he was not lying when he first brought her into his hall and said that if any man mistreated her, he would take care of it so that it never happened again.

She was truly grateful of whatever hand the gods had in leading her to him.

While Kid silently collected himself after revealing so much to her, she began to nod off where she leaned against him. It was strange how easy it was to find sleep when he was close. As long as he was beside her, she knew that she was safe, that nothing could bring her harm.

Back in Tingstad, before it was the dreams that disrupted her sleep, she still didn't find much rest. It didn't matter that Arlong's men were under orders to treat her as they would a sister, she knew better than to ever trust a single one of those men. Arlong included. She only ever slept a few hours at night, with Nojiko staying up to guard her. She would wake to then let her sister sleep until dawn, watching over her in turn. Once Arlong allowed her an enclosed room only big enough for a bed, with a door she could bar shut at night, she and Nojiko slept better, but still found themselves waking at the faintest creak outside their tiny room.

She stirred awake that night when she felt something flutter against her cheek, the gentle brush of fingers roughened from work and battle. She smiled at the touch as they guided a strand of hair behind her ear. Warm breath fanned over her forehead as he whispered her name. She didn't want to move, didn't want to leave her visionless sleep. She burrowed closer, and his breath fanned over her again with a short huff. He took her shoulder to lightly shake her. He just wouldn't leave her be. Groaning, she finally stretched as her eyes fluttered open and she tilted her head to gaze up at Kid.

His stoic frown said nothing of his mood, and it had grown too dark for her to see what thoughts his eyes might give away. He didn't speak, merely nodded up the hill to signal they return to the hall. She couldn't help but pout, and his frown cracked. It was barely a twitch of his lips, but she saw his flickering amusement before it was locked away again.

Before she could argue that they stay a few minutes longer, Kid pulled away to stand. He ignored her sulking as he held out a hand to help her up. He waited for her to brush the sand off her dress, still silent as he gazed off toward the path they followed. Once she was ready, he turned to lead the way back. His longer strides kept him a few steps ahead of her at first, but once they passed over the rocks lining the beach, he slowed until she reached his side and allowed her to wind her arms around his to help her stay on her feet as she yawned.

He paused outside Kalifa's home and frowned at the door. A glimmer of candlelight shone through a crack in the door, telling Nami that Gunda likely stayed awake waiting for her. She was surprised the shieldmaiden hadn't searched for her when she didn't return with Kalifa after supper. She had wanted time alone, weary from the trek and her anxiety over the raids, but Nami knew she wouldn't slack on her duties. Nami prepared herself to be fretted over, and released Kid's arm with a tired sigh.

He stopped her before she reached the door. She looked down at the hand firmly gripping her arm, unsure why he would stop her when he was the one who wanted to return to the hall. She turned her gaze up to frown curiously at him, and found that he was staring at his own hand, his expression equally confused. When he caught her stare, he pursed his lips into a tighter frown before flicking his gaze toward Iceburg's hall. The slight tug he gave her told her what he was silently suggesting.

Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't even begin to guess why.

She looked over her shoulder at Kalifa's home. She had slept fine the night before, she had no reason to stay with Kid. Even if she had been comfortable beside him down by the shore, she was still expected to remain with the women. And she couldn't rely on his presence to keep the visions away, she would have to learn how to control them herself. That might never happen if she took the easy route.

She shook her head and smiled solemnly. Kid knew her answer with only that and slowly released her. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it. She squeezed his arm in a quiet goodnight and went inside with his gaze heavy on her back. She didn't hear him walk away until she barred the door shut behind her.

"Lady Nami," Gunda whispered in obvious relief as she sat up in bed. She looked to have been dozing as she waited, and Nami came over to sit beside her with an apologetic smile. "I was worried that you might not return tonight. What were you doing down by the shore with the Jarl for so long?"

Her eyes widened. "You saw?"

"When you didn't return with Lady Kalifa, she said you had gone for a walk with Jarl Eustass. I went to look for you when it grew late and you still hadn't returned. I saw you sitting together, but didn't think it right to disturb you," she explained.

"Sorry," Nami whispered, taking the shieldmaiden's hand to squeeze. "I needed to speak with him. We got lost in conversation, is all." She paused to yawn. "And then I fell asleep for a bit."

"You should have been to bed hours ago," Gunda rebuked, sounding more like a stern mother than her shieldmaiden.

"I know. I'll go to bed now," she said, her eyes already feeling heavy again.

Gunda climbed from her bedding to help Nami undress and change into the wool tunic she slept in. She continued to mother her as she combed out the tangles in her hair and tied it in a loose braid, then helped Nami under her furs. She was too tired by then to bat her away, and willfully let the shieldmaiden tuck her in. She was still nervous and if fretting gave her an outlet for her worries, then Nami would let her.

Half asleep, Nami grabbed Gunda's hand before she could return to her bed. She smiled. "Thank you for worrying about me," she whispered, surprising the woman.

Gunda relaxed and smiled warmly for what Nami realized was the first time in days. "It is nothing, my lady. Now sleep."

She nodded as she rolled away to burrow under her furs. She listened as Gunda slipped back into her bed. Her eyes blinked open long enough to see the room fall dark when Gunda blew out the candle. When she closed her eyes again, she sank into her bedding, wrapped up in the comforting warmth of her furs. In an instant her mind floated off into darkness and she was fast asleep.

If she had known what dream would greet her, she might have thought twice about refusing Kid's offer.

At first there was only sound. The echoing howls of wolves that always haunted her dreams. There was panting and the muffled thump of their paws striking soft ground as they ran. They were off on a hunt. Eager for their feast. Their cries and snarls grew distant, and she slowly opened her eyes.

She found herself in fog, but she didn't panic. She could smell the trees, the rich soil beneath her feet. The fog would conceal the pack in the forest. It was ideal conditions for them to strike their prey unaware. As long as they went unseen, their hunt would be a success.

She had thought herself alone until she felt fur brush her hand. The touch surprised her, but she didn't startle as she looked down to see a wolf at her side. It wasn't the same wolf with the rusty eyes. This one peered up at her with eyes the color of the sky that stood out from ashen fur. The wolf nuzzled her hand, gave it a happy and playful nip that made her laugh, then loped off into the fog.

Another wolf brushed by her, yipping in a way that reminded her of laughter as it bounced away from another wolf. Neither had rust colored eyes. One had eyes as deep blue as the ocean. The other a gentle green. She giggled when yet another wolf came out of the fog to rub against her affectionately. This one had dark brown eyes. There was another wolf with gold eyes that came to lay on the ground in front of her and roll to its back in the dirt, its tongue lulling out happily.

She was surrounded by wolves, but she had never felt safer. They were happy, at peace, playing while they waited for the others to return. Nothing felt amiss.

She sat down on the ground to play with the wolves and watch them run around her. The fog slowly began to burn away, letting her see the trees around the large clearing they had taken for themselves. She could hear the ocean somewhere behind, the call of a seagull overhead, as more of the world bled into her awareness.

When she heard the beat of hooves off in the forest, she didn't think much of it, but the wolves stopped their playing immediately. As the horses grew near, the wolves tensed, their fur bristling as they growled. Nami finally felt fear when the ashen colored wolf tugged at her sleeve, urging her to get up and move away from the horses.

She heard the bark of hounds and began to scramble away. Her pack wasn't the only one out on the hunt, and just like her wolves, these hunters found advantage in the concealing fog.

The thrum of a bowstring letting loose was as loud as thunder in her dream, and her breath caught.

A yelp rang out when the arrow struck one of her wolves, and then chaos rained down.

Her dream spun out of control and left her dizzy as she tried to track all that was happening. Through the mist it was all a flurry of teeth and fur and iron spears. Her wolves snarled and snapped at the hunters, attacked man and beast alike. A horse fell with its rider and both were swallowed up in one bite. A hound lunged onto the back of one of her wolves and took it down with its jaws wrapped around its neck. The hound was tackled off its prey by another wolf that was quickly joined by a second. The hound didn't last long outnumbered and was torn apart amidst shrieks and yelps that began to deafen her.

As she watched the carnage around her, she stood frozen. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't move. She couldn't stop the slaughter. All she could do was watch until she couldn't see through the haze of tears. All she could see was a red sea drowning the green grass. All she could hear was the roar of the ocean as she grew deaf to all else.

Arrows flew by, grazed her skirts, but she was heedless of the danger she was in. One bit at her shoulder and threw her back to crash against the ground. Startled, her senses came rushing back just in time to see a horse charging at her, its faceless rider holding a spear with deadly intent. The ground was slick with blood, the dirt turned to sticky mud. She tried to push back, to find her feet and run, but all she could do was sink deeper into the muck. The rider grew closer, the hooves thundering. Fear chilled her heart. All she could think to do was raise her arms to shield herself from her inevitable doom.

The strike never came, and she lowered her arms to see the ashen wolf on the horse's back, its jaws around the rider's arm. The horse reared as claws dug into its rump, but the wolf did not release its prey. She watched with hope blooming inside her. Could this be a victory? Could this be an end?

The horse fell, tossing rider and wolf to the ground. The landing forced the wolf to let go of the man, and both scrambled to find purchase in the muck. The hunter looked to her first, but then turned to the wolf in time to catch the predator's lunge. He raised his spear. There was a yelp. And Nami felt a scream well but there was no breath in her lungs to give it voice. She watched, stunned, as the spear impaled the wolf. The beast tried to fight through the pain, clawed at the shaft, reached for the hunter, snapped its jaws, but as blood splashed to the ground, his movements quickly grew weak and slow.

With cruel malice, the hunter swung his spear and tossed the dying wolf off. It landed in a heap before her, whining and panting in pain. It wasn't dead yet, but it couldn't move as it continued to bleed out.

Nami wanted to wake up. But she couldn't

Her hands trembled as she reached for the beast. Its breaths shuddered as she gently ran her fingers through its matted fur. A sob built in her throat when it let out another pitiful whine. It opened its eyes, lifted its head, and looked at her with a pleading gaze. It was suffering, barely clinging to life, and it was still concerned with her.

 _Run_ , she swore it said with another whimper. _Move_.

She knew she needed to move. She should have moved sooner. She should have fought. She could have helped them. She could have saved them.

Its head fell back to the ground. It released another rattling, fluid-filled breath. And then fell completely still. Just as the hunter began to bear down on her with his spear poised to strike. She still couldn't move, even as the sharp tip began to descend on her.

All she could do was scream.

And then she was awake.

She shot up in her bed, gasping through her sobs. Sweat and tears made her eyes burn. Her lungs clawed at her chest, begging for air to fill them. Panic overtook her, wrapped around her throat. They were all going to die. They were all going to die because she couldn't do anything.

"… Nami… Lady Nami…" she heard on the edge of her frantic, dizzying thoughts. "Lady Nami," they tried again, this time a hand clutching her shoulder tight to shake her. "Lady Nami! Please wake up!"

She was awake, but the dream wouldn't leave her. She still tried to shake it, to fix her gaze on Gunda's worried face to one side. She sucked in a desperate breath, but then it felt as if her ribs had collapsed to stop the next.

"Lady Nami," a calmer voice said to her other side, and she forced herself to focus on Kalifa's stern face. There was confusion and obvious concern. She didn't know of her dreams, her visions. She didn't know what her mind was doing to her. "You need to calm yourself. Breathe…" she said.

Nami managed to drag in another breath as reality began to wash away the dream. Gunda's hand was firm on her shoulder, grounding her. Kalifa held her by the wrist, and with Nami's next breath, she noticed the soothing circles her thumb brushed over her pulse. Nami blinked away her tears, shut her eyes, and bowed her head.

"I'm… I'm alright…" she croaked out as she gripped her fur blanket tight. "I'm…" She slowly opened her eyes.

And screamed.

"Nami," both women exclaimed as she frantically threw her blanket off her. She didn't heed either of them as she shoved them away in her madness.

Blood. There was blood everywhere.

She scrambled out of her bed, ignoring the women's cries for her to stop, to calm down. She needed to move. She needed to run. She couldn't in the dream. But in the waking world, it was all she knew how to do.

She was out the door before either of them could stop her and sprinted away from the house. The chill air of the night bit the skin of her bare legs unprotected by the tunic she wore. The rocks of the path cut the soles of her feet as she ran barefoot to the sea. She needed to wash the blood away. She needed to make it all go away.

She stubbed her toe as she ran over the rocks lining the shore, but even that wasn't enough to stop her. She kept on running over the wet sand until she reached the water. She ran into the sea until it hit the middle of her shins and then fell to her knees. It was cold, but she didn't care as she splashed the water over her bloodstained arms and clothes and face. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but the blood wouldn't come off, even as the sea ran red.

She screamed and sobbed and splashed, cursed and pleaded. The blood was on her. It was all her fault.

She thought she heard someone call for her, but she ignored them. Water splashed behind her, but she didn't turn around. A growl rumbled above her, but she continued to scrub. She cried out when his arm wrapped around her waist suddenly, thrashed in his hold when he hauled her up out of the water.

"Put me down!" she screamed as he set her on his shoulder. "I need to clean the blood off. Please! Put me down!"

"No," Kid growled, stomping back to the shore. She continued to struggle as she sobbed, arching over his shoulder in a desperate bid to somehow reach the water. He unceremoniously dropped her onto the soft sand of the beach, and she immediately scrambled up, intent on running back into the water. Kid was there to stop her, though, catching her around her waist to haul her back. "Stop it, Nami."

"But I need to…." she began to plead, but it was cut off as he shoved her back onto the sand.

"You need to snap out of it," he snarled as he climbed on top of her to hold her down.

"But the blood…" she sobbed.

"There is no blood," he said frankly, his hands gripping her shoulders tight to keep her pinned. It was a firm hold, but controlled enough that it didn't hurt as long as she didn't struggle. She forced herself to breathe in and let her body go limp beneath him. "But if I didn't stop you," he said, calmer now that she had ceased fighting him, "I'm sure you would have clawed your skin off just now to get it."

She shut her eyes as she caught another breath. His grip relaxed, but he didn't get off her as she continued to calm. She was awake. The dream was gone. He said there was no blood. She trusted him. Kid had never lied to her, so why would he lie about this? But there had been so much blood. She felt it thick in the fur blanket, slimy on her hands. It all seemed real…. But Kid wouldn't lie.

She bit back another sob. It came out with a quiet whimper.

"She's fine now," Kid said to someone. "Go back to your beds."

Her eyes fluttered open to look around him. Gunda and Kalifa stood beside them, both women openly concerned. Her shieldmaiden held Kid's cloak in her arms and passed it to him when he gestured for it. Once he took it, he sat back on his knees to cover her wet and frigid form. She shivered as she drew it against her chest, soaking in the warmth of his fur while the others talked.

"It wouldn't be proper to leave her with you while she's in this state," Kalifa argued.

Kid glared at her. "Fuck off," he snarled. "She's safer with me than either of you. So take your _proper_ _horseshit_ and _go back to bed_."

Kalifa looked ready to argue again, but Gunda grabbed her arm and tugged her away.

"If Jarl Eustass says she is safe with him, then she is safe with him," Gunda said softly, though her downcast eyes told of her own doubts.

Kalifa's gaze turned cold as she glared at the other woman. Arguing wasn't going to make this better, so Nami shifted to sit up as best she could with Kid atop her, and wiped at the tears still staining her cheeks.

"It's really alright, Kalifa," she interjected. "I'm sorry to have worried you, but please go back to your home. Kid will see me back once I've calmed down."

Kalifa looked between her and Kid with a deep frown. "Are you certain? We can stay-"

"She said it's fine," Kid barked impatiently. " _Leave_."

Kalifa didn't look pleased by the rude order, but she pursed her lips and spun away with a huff. Gunda graced Nami with one more look of concern before turning to hurry after the other woman. Kid sat above her as he tracked them all the way up the path back to the square. Once he was satisfied, he turned his attention back to her.

"I knew you shouldn't have stayed with them," he grumbled as he glared down at her.

"I was fine last night," she argued tiredly. "We can't predict these dreams, and we already discussed it, I can't rely on you to keep them at bay… And I still might have had this dream tonight, even if I stayed with you."

"You were sleeping peacefully when you were with me," he reminded. "You always sleep best with me nearby."

She fell back into the sand, sighing, and covered her eyes with an arm. "No, I sleep best _after_ I've had that dream. _After_ you've woken me from it."

"After I stay," he added stubbornly.

"I still had that dream when we camped and you were nearby," she argued.

"That was a different dream."

"So was this one," she said, shifting her arm to glare up at him. "I didn't dream of your death this time…." She blinked as tears came to her eyes again and tried to sniffle them away. Kid shifted atop her uncomfortably. "It was so much worse," she said with a strained whisper. "And I didn't do anything to stop it."

"You can't do anything to change it if it's been fated," he said quietly as he leaned over her.

"But I _can_. I just don't know how," she admitted. "I _have_ to change it, Kid. I can't let them die. I can't let anyone else die for me."

As she began to cry again, Kid sighed and grasped her by the shoulders, roughly pulling her up into his arms. He drew the cloak around her more, covering her shivering body, and then pressed her face to his bare chest. She sank into him with a sob and greedily took the comfort he offered. His heart thumped steadily beneath her ear. His skin smelled of sand and sea. His fingers wove into her hair and tickled soothingly over her scalp. She felt him shiver when her arms wound around him, but he made no complaint.

"What did you see this time?" he asked once she had calmed.

She gripped his back tight. She didn't want to remember the vision. She didn't want to speak of it.

Kid pulled back enough to glower down at her. "Nami," he ordered impatiently, heedless of her sorrowful frown.

"There were other wolves," she said with a sigh, leaning in to press her forehead to his chest so she didn't have to look at him as she spoke. "Your men, I suppose. They were protecting me." She took a deep breath and shook her head against him. "It was a peaceful day. I didn't think to worry. They were all playing and happy. You and the others were out on a hunt. But… other hunters came. Men on horseback, with hounds at their sides. There was death everywhere. No one was spared. One of the wolves saved me from a spear, and I had hoped that would be the end, but…" She let out a shuddering sigh. "They were thrown from the horse, and when the wolf attacked the rider…" Her throat began to close as the image of the wolf impaled on a spear flashed before her mind's eye. She swallowed down the lump when Kid's nails scratched over her scalp, pulling her back to their world. "The wolf was dying in front of me, told me to run, to move… I couldn't. There was so much blood… I woke before the man could strike me down, too."

Kid's hold on her tightened and he let out a ragged breath of his own. "Do you know when this will happen? Where?"

She thought hard of the place she had been. They had been in a field, away from the village. They were close to the sea, but she didn't recognize the forest. And the riders with their hounds, they were not northmen. Their helms and shields said they were from other lands, but she did not recognize their heraldry. Her stomach sank. She had a feeling she knew when this prophecy would be fulfilled.

"I think…" She gazed up at him. "I think it's meant to happen in England."

Kid growled out a curse and looked away from her, sneering off into the distance. "And I suppose sending you back to Drafn won't change anything."

"They might not die in England, but if we run from it in the hopes of changing it, we risk angering the gods. They might sink our ship. We might be attacked in the village while you're away." Even if she chose another branch to follow, their fate might not be any different.

"But you said you could change it," he said. "You sound certain of it. Does it have to do with your dream of the Norns?"

Her eyes widened. "You were listening," she hissed in accusation.

"I wasn't going to leave you alone," he huffed. "Now tell me how you think you can change it when you say yourself that running from it might only change the means or place of their death?"

"I said I don't know how to change it. I just know that I _can_ … _Somehow_."

"Why do you think you can?"

"Because…" She sighed and shut her eyes. "That was my ancestor's prophecy, though I can't be certain I'm the one she foretold of. She merely said that at the end of our lineage, there will be one capable of magic no mortal has claimed before."

"And you're the last of their lineage…" he said, awestruck. He sank down as understanding dawned on him. "Unless you bear another daughter."

"The Norns kept telling me to move, but in this last dream, and the one I have of you, I'm always frozen with fear. I can't change anything when I can't move, but… I'm scared… I'm scared of dying, of failing, of doing everything I can and only making it worse. I'm a coward." She looked down as more tears stung her eyes. It was hopeless.

"Don't call yourself that," Kid said firmly, pushing her back hard and forcing her to meet his angry gaze. "I don't think you're a coward, so you shouldn't see yourself as one."

"But all I've ever done is run away, and when I don't, I just stand there and let people die. How am I not a coward?"

"Because you've done what you have to to survive. You were a child when that usurper came, and you suffered in his household, knowing he meant to use you for his own purposes, and as soon as you were capable, you ran."

"You're only proving me right," she hissed.

"No, I'm proving you wrong," he growled back. "You stayed in a home with the man who murdered the woman who raised you, who enslaved the Jarl who offered his protection to you. You stayed and suffered until you couldn't any longer, and when you ran, you ran alone, sailed through the straits in nothing but a faering, and survived Rán's net. You then walked through unknown lands, sick and starved, until the gods brought you to me. You never stopped moving. You never gave up on your life. You faced forward and fought for your own survival. If that isn't brave, then I don't know what is."

She gaped, speechless. He was so vehement in his reasoning; she couldn't find the words to deny him.

"Just because you can't stand up to battle a damn giant doesn't mean you're a coward. It just means you're smart and know your own limits. There are some fights that can't be fought alone, and that's why you're with me," he added.

Her eyes burned, but she wanted to smile. "Sometimes I hate you so much," she said, shaking her head as she gave a tired laugh.

Kid snorted. "'Cause I'm right and you know it."

"I don't think you're right, but maybe you have a point," she relented.

"No, I'm right. Just admit it," he said with a gloating smirk.

She shoved at his chest. "You're not wrong."

He chuckled. "Close enough." Sighing, he reached up to brush at a strand of hair that loosened from her braid. It was beginning to dry and turn coarse from the salt water. "So what are we going to do about this new prophecy?"

She pursed her lips in thought. If they couldn't run from it, then all they could do was face it and hope that when the time came, fear wouldn't freeze her.

"I need to think," she decided. "If running away isn't an option, then I need to figure out something that I can do to change it. I need to understand what I'm truly capable of." She shifted, letting his cloak fall down so she could look at her soaked clothing and red arms. She was covered in welts and scratches from how hard she scrubbed. The chill air covered her skin in tiny pimples, begging for her fur bed or a warm tub. "I could use a bath."

Kid frowned down at her arms, taking them to examine. "There's no blood."

"I know. But I still need a bath. Maybe it'll help me think."

"No scrubbing yourself raw like this again," he lectured as he rubbed his palm over her skin to warm it. "Or I'll have to watch you bathe to see that you don't."

She glowered at him, thinking his threat was a poor excuse for a lecherous joke. He looked dead serious. At least as serious as a man trying not to shiver from the cold could look.

"Why are you only wearing trousers?" she asked. "Aren't you freezing."

"I am, but when I heard you scream, I only bothered to pull on my pants before coming to you."

"You heard me scream?" She looked around the hill, toward the houses the other men were in and up toward Iceburg's hall. "Why did no one else come?"

Kid frowned. "Don't know. Maybe only I heard. Sounded like you screamed in my damn ear."

"If I was that loud, everyone should have woken," she reasoned.

Kid shrugged. "Might have to do with your magic. Don't know. Even if I hadn't heard, Gunda was on her way to wake me. Nearly ran her down in the square as I chased after you. Just bothered to order her to fetch my furs when I saw you weren't any more clothed than I was."

"Oh." She felt a pang of guilt for putting them all through so much trouble, and felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. At least the tunic was long enough to afford some modesty.

"And I swear I've never seen anyone run so damn fast, even over those rocks. Hell, only ever seen cats flee in a panic like that. How'd you not trip and knock yourself out?"

She shrugged. "I stubbed my toe, but all I cared about was getting into the water."

He hissed. "Makes me worry you might have drowned yourself in your madness. You're right, you need to understand your magic better, before these visions do push you that far." With a tired groan, he moved to stand, hauling her up with him. "For now, let's get you to my quarters. I'll wake a servant so you can have that bath."

"I can just use Kalifa's bath," she argued. "I don't need to stay with you tonight. I'm not going to sleep again."

He glowered at her. "You're being stubborn again. The women are probably sleeping by now."

"I doubt that, not with how worried they were. Please, just let me stay with them for the rest of the night." He wore a sulky frown that made her giggle. His gaze hardened into a glare when she reached up to brush her hand over his cheek. He really was cute when he worried. "I promise that I'll be alright. I'm not going to learn how to control these visions any faster if I keep using you to shield me from them. It's a crutch that won't always be there. If I feel I need you, though, I'll tell you."

He pursed his frown and nodded. She ran her hand over his cheek on more time before letting it fall away. As it dropped to his chest, he forced a smile and gave her a playful nudge. "And you say you're a coward."

Laughing, she pushed at his chest. "I might get scared, but I know I'm not weak. I don't need anyone coddling me."

That made him grin proudly. He then pinched her cheek hard enough to make her shriek. "Cute," he muttered before releasing her. She huffed as she rubbed at the sore spot, and Kid turned her toward the hill. "Fine me for that later. Let's get you back before I freeze my ass off."

She shivered and agreed that it wouldn't be good to linger out there. She repositioned his cloak to wrap tight around her shoulders, and set off for the hall. She had a harder time crossing the rocks without fear surging through her veins and slipped once before Kid took her by the waist and hauled her onto his shoulder. She wanted to argue over him manhandling her again, but it was better than cutting her feet apart. When she didn't struggle, he continued to carry her up the hill, only setting her down once they spied Kalifa waiting outside her home with a disapproving scowl.

"Gunda is heating water for a bath," she said, her tone hard and rebuking. "We can't have you catching your death from the cold."

"Thank you." She nodded to her graciously then slipped Kid's cloak off to return to him. He immediately wound it around his bare shoulders with a relieved sigh and shudder. She waved him off and headed into the home as he quickly made his way to Iceburg's hall. He really was freezing.

Inside the home, Kalifa pounced on her without warning. Kalifa huffed in annoyance as she yanked the tunic up over Nami's head, ignoring her squeals of protest.

"Warm yourself by the fire while your shieldmaiden finishes filling the tub," Kalifa snapped once she was bare, gently shoving her toward the small fire they lit while she was away. As soon as Nami sat down on a stool, Kalifa tossed a fur blanket over her lap and draped a wool one over her shoulders. "I do not like the way that Jarl treated you out there. He is too rough."

"He tries not to be," Nami argued. "I was fighting back. He was merely trying to keep me from hurting myself."

"That may be, but he could have gentled his touch," Kalifa said as she stood behind her and began to pull at Nami's disheveled braid. Her own touch was rough in her frustrations until Nami winced and drew away. The older woman took a deep breath and forced herself to calm before easing Nami toward her again to pull at the tangled strands with more care. "My apologies. Your nightmare must have been very traumatic, and here I am lecturing _you_ for your Jarl's behavior."

Nami's shoulders slumped. "Yes, very traumatic. I suppose I'm more nervous about England than I thought."

"Your mind can certainly conjure up the worst nightmares from your fears," Kalifa agreed as she ran her fingers over her scalp. Nami sank forward with the soothing touch and let her eyes fall shut. "I was surprised by how quickly Jarl Eustass came to you, though. It was as though he sensed your distress. And your shieldmaiden had been going to fetch him before he came running out. It seemed to me this was not the first time you had such an episode."

Nami's eyes shot open in surprise. She couldn't let this woman catch on to what she was. Could she?

"Nami?" Kalifa prompted, her hands settling on her shoulders. "This is not your first night terror, is it?"

She realized she couldn't lie, not entirely. If she was to go with them to England, she would likely figure it out eventually. She closed her eyes with another sigh.

"No," she said softly. "Though it is certainly the worst. They only began to plague me a few weeks ago, right before I came into Kid's care."

"Are they all the same?" Kalifa asked as she picked up a comb and began to run it through the drying strands of Nami's hair.

"At first they were. I had a new one a few nights ago, when we camped on the way here. And this one was different from the others. It was more vivid and refused to leave me after I woke," she explained. "They only seem to abate when Kid wakes me."

"We woke you fine."

"I ran to the sea screaming. I don't see how that is waking up fine."

"Point well taken," Kalifa ceded. "What are these dreams of?"

Nami hesitated. She nearly gave a vague response, but Gunda spoke up before she could.

"Please do not question Lady Nami on her dreams," the shieldmaiden said. "They are a source of great turmoil for her and the Jarl, and it is unkind to make her think on them so soon after. Lady Nami, the bath should be warm enough for you."

Kalifa pulled away without argument and bowed her head apologetically. A part of her wished she could tell the other woman why Kid and his people were so protective of her, but she knew she couldn't trust anyone too easily. Still, she liked the woman well enough. There was something about her that made her want to trust her.

She turned to place a hand on Kalifa's arm, drawing her attention back to her. Smiling, she gave her a squeeze. "I could do with some company while I bathe. I don't care to be alone after these dreams. If it's not too much trouble, could you keep combing my hair? It's very soothing."

Kalifa smiled tightly and nodded. "It would be my pleasure."

"Gunda," Nami said, "you join us, too. I could use all the company I can get after that nightmare."

The shieldmaiden tilted her head in agreement, and moved aside as Nami got up to head toward the back room and the tub. As soon as she sank into the warm water, she sighed with relief while the last tremors of cold and fear wash away. It had been exactly what she needed to clear her mind and hopefully think on what to do next.

It was unfortunate that her only source of answers came in a cryptic dream from the Norns. They hadn't been helpful at all.

* * *

Kid found the hall lit up when he returned, a fire roaring in the hearth and candles lit at one of the tables. He paused at the sight of Iceburg stretched back in a chair, his feet planted on the table. He looked to be napping. Kid was surprised to find him out of bed at all.

"A herd of reindeer could have stampeded through here, and they would have been quieter than you," Iceburg said as Kid limped toward the fire. He should have at least tried to slip on his boots before running out, but his main concern was reaching Nami after hearing that scream pierce his mind and shatter his dreams. His feet and hands were freezing after pulling Nami from the water. "What sent you out with such a racket?"

"None of your business," Kid grunted.

"Mm, I saw your Lady's shieldmaiden and Kalifa return not long ago. Kalifa said Nami had a nightmare. But how could you have known?" Iceburg peeked open one eye, his brow raising. "There is something strange about her, and your relationship to her. What exactly brought her to your village again?"

"An alliance with her father," Kid grumbled, turning away to take a cup of ale from a servant that must have been dragged from bed by her Jarl.

"Ah, right, the one who is so poor, he is little more than another farmer in his territory," Iceburg said, nodding. "He supplied you with his daughter, who you claim is a talented navigator, but if she only ever grew up on a farm with a Jarl so poor, I doubt she had much chance to sail. Even if she showed an early gift for it, though, that is still a meager exchange for an alliance."

"She was all he had to offer," Kid growled. This lie was going to bite him in the ass the more Iceburg tried to unravel it. "And as I said, this isn't any of your business."

Iceburg hummed. "As your trading partner, I think it might be my business what manner of woman you brought to my village. Especially now that I have men and women both volunteering to join you on the raids, some for the sole purpose of protecting this lady of supposedly humble origins. If my people are in any danger, then it is my duty to do what I can to protect them."

Kid sighed, unable to argue with him. But he had a duty to protect Nami. They could not let too many know of her true origins, or who she was running from. It could put her in danger, and that was the last thing he wished to do.

"If I tell you, you must swear yourself to secrecy," Kid said, glaring at his fellow Jarl. "If I learn you broke my trust and told this tale to anyone else, I'll bring a swift end to you and this village."

Iceburg dropped his feet from the table to lean forward with a thoughtful frown. "Very serious consequences for telling a tale. She is that important?"

"She is," Kid answered frankly. "Her well-being and the safety of my own people are at risk if this story reaches too many ears."

Iceburg thought a moment, and then turned to the servant waiting on them. "Bar the doors and return to your quarters. See that no other servants come in here until I tell them otherwise. If I catch any one of you eavesdropping, I will allow Lucci to do with you as he pleases."

The threat was apparently terrifying enough to get the servant running to do his bidding. Within a minute, they were alone again, and hopefully with no one listening who shouldn't. Iceburg came over to the fire to sit beside him, and waved for him to tell him what he could.

Kid sighed in defeat. "She was brought to me by the gods…"

* * *

It was well after dawn when Nami made her way to the hall with Gunda and Kalifa. She felt more relaxed than she had been, though she wished she could have slept longer. Her dreams were going to leave her overly-fatigued if they continued to worsen. She still had no idea how to control her visions, if she even could, but she was determined to find some way to ease their effects on her sleep.

The hall was bustling as all the men came in to eat their breakfast, the servants flitting about as quickly as they could to see that all the guests had their meals. Nami expected to see Kid hunched over in a chair, scowling as he always did in the morning, this time with an even worse attitude after being woken so early by her nightmare, but he wasn't anywhere to be found in the main room. She wondered if he had gone back to bed and managed to find sleep again. If he did, she was envious of his ability to fall asleep without a care.

"Nami," Killer called to her from one of the tables, waving her to him. "Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly, eyeing her covered arms as though hoping to see the marks she left in her scrubbing. Kid must have told him what happened.

Hróarr stood from the table, offering his seat. She slipped into the chair beside Killer, smiling her thanks.

"I'm feeling much better," she answered Killer. "Where's Kid? Did he go back to bed?"

"No, he had to see to something with Jarl Iceburg. They should be returning soon," Killer said as he waved down a servant, signaling for them to bring Nami her meal. She wondered what might have drawn them away so early. Maybe they were seeing to preparations for the raid.

She was nearly done with her meal when Kid came back into the hall and immediately made his way to her. "Nami, finish up and let's go."

"Go?" She blinked up at him. "Go where?"

"Just hurry up," he huffed instead of answering her.

She rolled her eyes at his bossy impatience. He had been being so nice to her since the night before, too. "Can you at least give me a hint of what you're up to?"

"No. I'll explain on the way." He snatched her bowl from her when she didn't finish her porridge fast enough and quickly ate the last few bites himself while she gaped at him. "There, you're done. Let's go."

"Oh, you are going to owe me so much gold for that," she growled, but stood to follow him out before he could think to toss her over a shoulder. "I want a whole chest for this."

"Quit complaining," he grumbled as he led her to the door. "You'll thank me for this."

"Doubtful," she muttered. He glared at her over his shoulder, and she sneered. "I knew you wouldn't be in a great mood today, but this is bad, even for you."

"I'm not in a bad mood," he said as he took her arm to pull her along faster, toward the path down to the village center. "Just don't have a lot of time to waste for this."

"Where is it you're taking me?"

"To see someone," he answered.

"Whom are you taking me to see?" she asked through grit teeth and forced politeness.

"Iceburg said she might be able to help with your visions."

She stopped dead in her tracks at the base of the hill and ripped her arm from his. He turned to glower at her.

"What?" he growled.

"You spoke with Jarl Iceburg about this?"

"He heard me run after you and wouldn't stop questioning me about it," he said with a shrug.

"How much did you tell him, Kid?" He pursed his lips and looked away. "Kid!"

"Everything," he muttered. "Except for your ancestor's prophecy. He swore that it would remain a sec-"

She smacked his chest to cut him off. " _You_ were supposed to keep it a secret."

"I know," he hissed. "I tried…"

"Not hard enough," she snapped.

"Lady Nami," Iceburg called as he sauntered toward them from the central harbor. Nami glared at Kid one more time, but then brushed by him with a huff. It was too late to make this right. "Is there a problem?"

"No," she bit out. "He said you know someone that might be able to help me."

Iceburg looked between her and Kid, his expression remained flat as he did. "Mm, well, I think she might. I'm not sure. At the least, I believe she is someone you need to meet."

"Fine. Let's get this over with," she snapped, waving for him to lead the way.

Iceburg stayed in his place, frowning down at her as he idly ran a finger over his mouse's head. "You have no reason to be upset with your Jarl. He has made the importance of this matter perfectly clear, and swore vengeance on me if I broke my vow and put you in danger. There is no one on these islands you can trust with a secret more than me and my brother."

"You told Franky, too?" Nami asked, rounding on Kid.

"It was my decision to include him," Iceburg interjected before she and Kid could argue again. "While I am Jarl, he does hold sway with his own men. Since they are joining you on the raids, I felt it prudent to inform my brother of the matter of your safety and the reasons for it. He will be bringing Kiwi and Mozu as two more shieldmaidens for you to add to your personal guard since Jarl Eustass said you feel most comfortable with them."

As tempted as she had been to tell Kalifa the whole truth, even she resisted the urge. She knew better than to trust these people, no matter their friendships. Hearing that Kid willfully told these men who she was infuriated her. At least he thought better about telling them of the prophecy, but he still knew the dangers of saying too much to the wrong people. What if Arlong sent ships to all the northern territories in search of her? Arlong knew that gold worked well to loosen tongues when he needed information. He might very well be able to buy her whereabouts from these people.

She had never wanted to smack Kid so badly, but she restrained the impulse and pointed up at him, sneering. "Make that _two_ chests, or I _will_ make your life miserable."

Kid rolled his eyes. "No you won't," he grunted and shoved her toward the harbor. "And I do think you'll thank me for this."

"But what if Arlong-" she hissed, only to be cut short as he pushed her again.

"He won't find out from them, I can promise you that," he growled. "If he does, then you can cut out my tongue as punishment. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"If you trust me, then trust I wouldn't have told them anything if I could have avoided it," he huffed. "I wouldn't do anything that might endanger you more."

He was right about that. She trusted him, and thus far he hadn't given her any reason to doubt him. She forced herself to relax with a sigh, following along after Iceburg without Kid pushing at her back.

"I'm still fining you," she huffed stubbornly, but she knew the threat lacked bite as she let go of her anger.

Kid chuckled. She felt his hand brush beneath her hair to squeeze the back of her neck, the gesture reassuring.

A boat waited for them at the harbor with Franky already on board, seated beside the steering oar. Kid helped her into the faering, directing her to sit at the prow with Iceburg while he took to the oars to row them from the harbor. They steered through the inlet, into the strait, and headed north.

"I would still like to know who you're taking me to," Nami said once Kid stopped rowing to let the sail carry them along.

"Mm, she's an old friend of ours," Iceburg said as he leaned back. His eyes were shut and he looked ready to nap as he idly played with the mouse running over his chest. "She claims herself to be a sea witch."

"A sea witch?"

"She was close with the man who raised us," Franky explained. "He, like that Jarl you're hiding from, claimed himself to be a son of the sea, a giant of Aegir's lineage. Though, he wasn't interested in starting any wars over it. He just liked building boats."

"Mm, all people have their tales of creatures in the seas. The Greeks have their sirens. Others speak of maidens with a fish tail in place of legs. And we have our sea giants that reside in halls far beneath the waves. She claims to be descended from those very same creatures, too" Iceburg said. "Mm, though I've never seen this tail she swore to have. I think that story was more ale than truth."

"So you're taking me to a drunk with wild stories of fish people and sea giants," Nami said, glowering at the Jarl.

"Not all of her stories are pure fantasy," Fanky said. "Some just get a little exaggerated when she drinks."

"You will hear for yourself when you meet her, and then you can decide if this was a waste of time," Iceburg said. "Mm, but you should perhaps keep an open mind. For one such as yourself, the existence of a real sea witch shouldn't be such a hard story to swallow."

She grudgingly admitted that he had a point, and said nothing more on the woman they were taking her to. If she could believe that Arlong and his men were descended from a race of giants, then she could believe this woman might be of similar origins. At the very least, if she was a witch, then she was well practiced with magic and might be able to guide her to better answers.

They hadn't been sailing long before Franky told Kid to return to the oars. Two islets were in sight ahead of them, with another island rising high to the north and west of them. Franky steered them to the islets, into the shallow waterway cutting between them.

"Here," he called to Kid once they reached a small bay on the larger of the two islets. Kid rowed them in close, then pulled in the oars before jumping into the shallow water to pull the boat onto the sand. As he and Franky secured the boat, Iceburg stood to help her out.

The beach was empty, but off into the thick woods, she spied a thin band of smoke rising into the sky. Iceburg headed off in the direction of the smoke, but paused at the edge of the trees.

"Franky, the mead," Iceburg said, gesturing toward the boat. His brother quickly went back and grabbed a bag he had set by the steering oar, shouldering as he jogged after them. Iceburg looked down at her. "She has a rule that we're never to come without a gift."

"And her favorite gift is a good mead," Franky said with a laugh. "She'll be very welcoming as soon as she smells this."

They weren't instilling a great deal of confidence in her, but she shrugged off her concerns and followed them into the woods. The house wasn't far from the beach, tucked into a clearing shaded by thick trees, but still open enough that the occupant could see the ocean and any ships that might come to the islet. Its dark wood and turf camouflaged it well, so while they could see their boat from that point, there was no way of seeing the house until they were right on top of it.

"Kokoro," Iceburg called out before he reached the open door. There was a crash inside, and a child shouted out just as Iceburg ducked inside with Franky behind him.

Nami paused outside while the brothers entered, nervously eyeing the fish bones hanging around the door, mixed with smooth pebbles and sea shells. Kid's touch at the small of her back urged her inside before she could give in to the temptation to run away.

Inside a small fire burned at the center of the main room. It was a cramped space with all four of them in there, with Nami hidden behind the Jarl and his brother, Kid lingering just inside the door behind her. Franky crouched down in front of her to pick up a young girl with thick blonde hair, that looked to be stained a light green, tied into two messy braids.

"Chimney," Franky greeted. "Where's your grandma?"

"She went to get fresh water for her fish," Chimney answered. "She said you would be coming today."

A cackle rang out from behind them, and Nami jumped away from the door in surprise. Kid shifted to the side to let her see an old lady standing there with a pail laden with water. As old as her weathered face said she was, her hair was still blonde, tinged with green like her granddaughter's, albeit faded from her years. It was as heavy as the girl's, too, but kept free of braids, left to hang in thick, messy curls and knots. The only decoration she wore in her hair was a string of seashells that Nami thought might be tangled in her hair, not hung by a piece of string.

"The fish said to expect some visitors," Kokoro said. The heavy set woman grinned wide and laughed again, before pushing her way inside. Kid had to shove himself as close to the wall as he could, while Franky did the same on the other side of the room. The old lady didn't seem to mind the tight space, her wide smile never wavering as she waddled through the room to set her pail down by a table. The water sloshed, and then splashed, and Nami noticed the tail of a fish flop out before slipping back inside.

"So she can talk to fish?" Nami muttered to herself.

Kokoro heard and laughed, the sound deep and raspy, thick with a drunken slur. "And you must be the woman the fish were telling me about. They said you tried to swim with them this morning."

Nami straightened in surprise, her cheeks heating with a blush. Kid snorted behind her.

"Did you men bring me something to drink?" Kokoro asked with her wide grin.

Franky opened his bag and carefully pulled out a small cask to set on her table. "The best mead in Noreg, of course," he said, much to the old woman's delight.

"Chimney, take the men outside and show them your new cat," Kokoro said to the girl, practically shooing them all out.

Nami moved away from the door to let Iceburg and Franky follow after the little girl who skipped out ahead of them. Kid lingered a moment, but ducked out of the home after he caught Nami's gaze and gave her a subtle nod of reassurance. Once alone, Nami looked to the old woman as she ambled about her small home. She grunted and huffed as she dug through a chest, then chuckled some more as she pulled out two wood cups.

"Sit, woman," she ordered happily, waving toward the table.

Nami took one of the chairs at the table and sent an uneasy glance toward the door. She hoped this wouldn't be time wasted.

"What's your name?" Kokoro asked as she set down the cups. She swayed on her feet when she turned to search for a knife to pry open the cask, but caught herself with yet another laugh.

"Nami," she answered.

"Oh? You're named from another land, too?" Kokoro chuckled as she managed to open the cask. "The same lands as mine."

"What does your name mean?" Nami asked politely.

"Heart. Though, I think it might be more fitting if I had your name." She dipped a cup into the mead to fill it and handed it to Nami. "Drink. Drink. It's not every day I have a new drinking partner."

Nami smiled as she took the cup. "Why do you say my name would be more fitting for you?" she asked before taking a sip. She savored the sweet tang of the fermented honey, and immediately took another sip with a pleased hum. Mead was a rare treat to enjoy.

"Well, because my people are the ones born from those waves, not yours," Kokoro answered merrily.

Nami's attention snapped up from her drink in surprise. "What do you know of my people?"

The old woman laughed. "That they are long gone, but the clan that took them in is far from dead."

"What do you mean? That clan was weakening, and I was told that the last of them died with my family."

"Yet here I am," Kokoro cackled. "Rán had nine daughters, why would they all stay in one place? The sea is all around us. There were many more daughters born of them than the ones who took in your people. And even in that clan, many left over the years to settle in new places, married other men and had families of their own that were not remembered by the direct lineages."

"I also heard their magic was waning, yet you can apparently talk to fish."

"That I can," she said, chuckling. "The magic of those who protected your family had lessened, but the seas still storm, Rán still takes men to her hall, and I can still talk to fish." She threw her head back and laughed louder. "Though that is nothing compared to a gift of sight."

"I wouldn't call it a gift," Nami muttered into her cup.

Kokoro sobered for a moment. Her grin didn't vanish, but it lessened as she looked at Nami's arms.

"Let me see what you did," she urged, gesturing for her to hold out her arms. Nami set down her cup and stretched her arms over the table for the old woman to take. Kokoro pushed up her sleeves and finally her grin disappeared as she pursed her lips. "They said you were scrubbing all your scales off."

"I don't have scales."

"Skin. Scales. To a fish it makes no difference. What drove you to do this?" she asked as she turned her arms over and back, examining the red marks closely.

"I had a dream. When I woke, I swore the blood was still on me," Nami said softly. "I just wanted it off."

Kokoro nodded solemnly and released her. She sat back in her chair, humming to herself while Nami tugged the sleeves of her dress down.

"I have heard of many seers being plagued with madness if their gifts come to them too quickly. The stronger the magic, the harder it is to adjust. I've heard of some beating at their heads to get the visions out. Others carve at their faces, burn themselves with hot embers, sew their eyes shut – whatever they can do to blind themselves so they might never see again." Kokoro's serious tone broke with another laugh. She grinned again. "They only serve to make themselves see even more."

Nami shifted in her chair. She didn't think her visions could push her that far, but she had run into the sea and would have torn off her own skin in her attempt to get clean.

"Is there any way to make them stop?" she asked, errantly gripping her scarred shoulder and the mark that had held her back for so long. That mark had bound them, perhaps another could do the same.

Kokoro's gaze settled on her arm as she hummed. "Nothing short of death," she said, voice dropped low. Her serious tone broke with yet another laugh and she tossed back all the mead in her cup. "That man who brought you here might not be pleased if you tried to take that route, though."

"And what do you know of him?" She glowered at the woman who dipped her cup for more drink. Kokoro continued her tittering as her gaze turned sly and knowing. "You know a lot about us for a sea witch living alone on an island."

"It's the fish. They can be mouthy little gossips sometimes." The old lady laughed. "I heard nothing but talk of the woman with amber hair after Rán took her in her nets. It's not often someone survives meeting her."

"I imagine it's not for a lack of trying on her part. She threw me into a rock," Nami said flatly.

"That was her way of helping." She pointed at her shoulder. "When she saw how determined you were to survive, she made sure everything was set in motion to lead you to where you need to be."

"She could have done it a lot nicer," she grumbled. "I was delirious with fever for days."

"Rán isn't nice. She just barely tolerates the gods Aegir brings to his hall, and she revels in sinking mortal ships with her storms. For her to not only allow you to bear a name from her, and live with her most steadfast worshipers, and then survive her most malevolent seas… I'd say she's been far kinder to you than to any other mortal in this realm." Kokoro paused to swallow a belch, then laughed giddily. "In fact, I'd say she's fond of you."

Nami was beginning to feel frustrated. This conversation wasn't going in any direction that she imagined would help her. If she couldn't make the visions stop, which she suspected from the start, then was there at least a way to control them? Why did she have to have them in the first place? If mortals were not meant to bend fate to their will, beyond the paths provided, then what good did it do them to have people who could foretell what was on the horizon? And why were the gods so intent on meddling with her life?

She swallowed down the last of her drink, much to Kokoro's merriment, and went for more from the cask.

"Nothing in my life has ever seemed to make sense," Nami began to complain. "Not the stories of my family. Not the giants trying to take me. Not the gods' ways of helping me. And these _gifts_ , this magic, is slowly driving me to lose what little sense I can make of anything. If I can't control it, then what's the use of it?"

Kokoro hummed thoughtfully. The old lady swayed and bobbed as she took a drink, and then set her cup down with a satisfied sigh.

"I'm not a seer, so I can't tell you how to work your magic, but I can imagine how strange it is to one day have your whole world seem different from before. I could talk to fish since the day I was born. Never thought it strange at all. That magic was born inside me, is in my blood. It's no different for yours; that giant merely stunted you for his own purposes. I suppose he thought it wouldn't bring this much harm to you, that he might be able to harness and control your visions himself, but a woman's magic is nothing a man can wield. Not through force, anyway."

"I never had any visions as a child," Nami insisted. "Even before Arlong branded me as his."

"You might not have had any visions, but your magic was still flowing through your veins and shaping your world," Kokoro said. "Tell me what other gifts you have."

"I have no others."

"Truly? There is nothing else that others have remarked is strange about you? No talents or abilities you might have shown even as a child?"

Nami frowned. "I suppose my navigating. I was always good at reading the wind out at sea. I know the currents beneath the waves unseen by human eyes. Are you saying that's part of my magic?"

Kokoro laughed. "It's certainly part of the gifts your family imparted on you. Is there not a god in your lineage associated with the sea and wind and sailing? Another known to bring sunshine and fair weather, who owns a ship that always brings a favorable breeze? You might have gotten much from your clan's grandmother, but your magic goes beyond her."

"You know that much?" she asked in quiet surprise. At Kokoro's answering grin, Nami took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. Leaning forward, she tried to make sense of what the old lady was telling her. "Say it's true that those talents are part of my heritage, how does that help me with these visions?"

"I don't know," the old lady said with another unhelpful chuckle. "I was just rambling."

Nami let her head fall against the table. She should have known there would be no real advice coming from a drunk.

"Now tell me about that man fidgeting about outside my door waiting for you?" Kokoro asked cheerfully.

Nami glanced up, brows furrowed. "What about him?"

"I'm just curious what part he plays in your saga," she said with a shrug and grin. "How did you come to be in his care?"

Nami sighed and sat straight. "The gods brought me to him for protection after Rán cast me ashore." Kokoro hummed, once more wearing a sly smile as she drank her mead. "He's been a friend to me these past weeks."

"And you to him, according to what the fish have told me." The old woman hiccupped. "Said you two sat on the beach last night talking until you fell asleep beside him, and then he was the one to drag you from the water this morning."

"All this talk of talking fish is making me wonder if I'll enjoy my next meal," Nami muttered. The remark made the old lady laugh. Everything seemed to make the old lady laugh. "They certainly need to mind their own business." She took another drink. The mead was sweet, though not strong, but it was helping her relax. "As for his role in my _saga_ , I suppose he means to be the hero. He's sworn to slay my giant, even at the cost of his own life."

"Is that so?" Kokoro breathed out, a touch amused in her awe. "And what role are you in _his_ saga?"

Nami's brow rose. "I suppose I'm the reason for his death."

Kokoro pursed her lips in the first real scowl Nami had seen her give, and hummed disapprovingly. "That is not it."

"You're not the seer," Nami pointed out. "You're not the one plagued with nightmares of that man's death, or the deaths of his men. I've seen what's to come."

"That is not all you have seen," Kokoro said.

Nami gaped at her. Do the fish eavesdrop on all of her conversations when they occur near the water? She was going to have to be more mindful of where she spoke.

"The Norns told me to move, but I _can't_. I can hardly remain sane from these visions, how am I expected to act in a way to change them?" she asked.

"That I definitely can't tell you. It's magic beyond any I've encountered… Though… Perhaps I wasn't rambling so much when I spoke of the gods earlier." She reached over the table and laid her hand over Nami's bracelets. "The Valkyries have been watching over you for a long time, why is that?"

Nami sighed. She had a feeling this was going to be another rambling lesson on the gods.

"Because Odin dispatched them to watch over my lineage," she answered.

"Just Odin?"

"They are spirits that do Odin's bidding, though in this instance he sent them at Freyja's behest," she answered carefully.

"It is true that the Valkyries are the ones who choose the fallen warriors taken to Valhalla. But they only take half to him, correct?"

Nami's eyes widened.

"Who takes the other half again?" Kokoro asked, though her mischievous gaze said she knew the answer before Nami whispered it.

"Freyja."

"And who is to take those souls to Fólkvangr? Is she to carry them all herself?"

"She is known by another name," Nami said softly. "Valfreyja. Freyja of the slain."

"She is a war goddess, among many other attributes. If she has her own hall and field, with a host of fallen warriors, then surely she has her own Valkyries to do her bidding, especially if she acts as one herself." Kokoro laughed. "I've always wondered what sort of spirits might do her bidding? The Valkyries are spirits tied to our realm, as well as that of the gods. So who are these women who might serve Freyja so faithfully? Who are her spirits that choose the slain?"

Nami sat back as she let that revelation sink in. Maybe this meeting hadn't been such a waste of time, after all.

"You said that you don't believe I'm to be the cause of Kid's death, but I see him die at the hands of a giant trying to claim me," Nami remarked.

"He's the instrument of his own death. It was his choice to take you in. Even if the gods brought you to him, it was ultimately his decision to follow their path. If that leads to his demise, and he is aware of that end, then it is by his own actions and choices that his death will come," Kokoro explained.

"Then what do you think I'm meant to be in his saga?" Nami asked.

The old lady belched, took another long swig of her mead. She set her cup down and hiccuped as she leaned forward. "If I were the gambling sort, I would say you are the hero of _his_ saga."

Nami laughed incredulously. "Me? His hero? That man has far too much pride to let anyone claim that role in his sagas. Only he can be the hero of his stories."

Kokoro shrugged. "A hero can come in many forms. You do not have to be his sword and shield, like he means to be for you, in order to be his hero."

"I still think that's insane," Nami said, though she hoped it might be true. If she could find a way to save him from what she had foreseen, then she might be able to call herself his hero. No matter what Kokoro said, she still blamed herself for pulling him into her turmoil. "I don't understand why the gods brought me to him to begin with. Even if he's strong enough to protect me, he shouldn't have to be dragged into someone else's problems. Especially when they could destroy everything he's been working toward."

Kokoro's brow rose. "You don't know why they chose him? I thought that obvious," she said. Nami stared at her in confusion, silently urging her to explain. The old lady chuckled. "You each have what the other desperately needs, but lacks."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He has courage to shield you from your fear. You have kindness to stay his sword. You are the sea that carries his ships to seek great treasures, and he is the rock you can lean on when you find you can't stand any longer. He is the home that gives you a place to hide from the terrors in this world, a place to feel at ease and secure. You are the fire in the hearth, the one who lights and warms his hall during the coldest winter nights. He is your vengeance, and you are his forgiveness." Kokoro laughed while Nami sat in stunned silence. "And, of course, he is Odin's man. It was Freyja who brought seidr to the Aesir, and it was Odin who came to master it just as Freyja had. I find it fitting that it is Odin's strongest warrior who shelters the seer who may just carry Freyja's most powerful magic inside her."

Nami sat back as she took in all that Kokoro had said. She could agree that Kid had qualities she lacked. He was certainly braver than she was, steadfast in his decision to take her in, despite knowing it might get him killed. She did feel secure when she was around him, a feeling that grew with every passing day. She didn't fear for her life in his hall, didn't fear what he might do to those she had grown to care for within his home, even in the face of his poor temper. She trusted him to bear some of the weight on her spirit, a weight he willfully took on even when she tried to carry it all herself. And she supposed there was a poetic quality to the deities they most revered, and the joining of the Aesir and Vanir tribes their gods belonged to. And like Freyja so often endured, she even had a giant wishing to claim her.

As she sat in thought, Kokoro helped herself to Nami's unfinished cup, chuckling the entire time. Nami snapped out of her thoughts to glare at the old woman. Kokoro cackled but refilled the cup and handed it back to Nami.

She couldn't think of anything else to discuss with the woman. She had learned more than she expected to from their conversation, and she would need more time to think of how it might help her. But she was curious about this woman. Bellemere had told her that there were no more of Rán's granddaughters in the realm. Even Arlong said that she was supposed to be the last, unaware that her foremothers had been adopted into the clan. She wanted to know more of what these children might be capable of.

Sitting forward, she took a sip of her fresh drink and smiled kindly at the old woman. "So tell me, what else do these fish of yours gossip about?"

The question earned a ringing laugh, and Nami learned that people would be wise to avoid doing anything in secret near the ocean, not unless they wanted a sea witch to hear of their most embarrassing failures.

After talking with Kokoro for a while longer, she sauntered out of the small home and stopped just outside the door to stretch. She hated to admit it, but she was thankful that the men had brought her there, even if she was annoyed that Kid told Iceburg and Franky the truth about her. She would have to trust that they could keep her secret.

"Any of that mead left?" Kid asked.

She startled and looked down to find him sitting beside the door. He was glowering at a piece of wood as he ran his knife over it, whittling it down to a sharp point. He must have gotten bored.

"Not a drop," she said apologetically and went to sit at his side. "It was a pretty sweet batch. I don't think you would have liked it."

His scowl pursed. He wasn't satisfied with that answer.

"We'll get you a pitcher of ale when we get back to the hall." She nudged his arm. "Don't sulk too much."

He grunted, his attention seemingly stuck on the wood he was sharpening. After sitting out there for nearly an hour while she talked with Kokoro, she expected him to be snapping at her for making him wait so long. Patience wasn't his strong suit at times, especially when he was forced to sit around with nothing to do. The lack of good food and drink should have only made his mood worse, but despite looking bored, he seemed too lost in thought to be irritated with the wait.

"I take it you were eavesdropping?" she asked quietly. He grunted, and she assumed that was a yes. "You're worse than the fish."

Kid snorted and his expression finally cracked with a faint smirk. "I wasn't fidgeting, just so you know."

"You look like you're making a spear right now. You were definitely fidgeting." She giggled.

"Just trying to keep my hands busy," he grumbled as he continued his sharpening.

She hummed as she looked through the clearing in the trees and off toward their boat sitting on the beach. "Where did Jarl Iceburg and Franky go?"

"Iceburg's taking a nap," Kid said, leaning forward to point his knife at the trees to the side of the house. She had to squint at the dark patch of shade beneath the overgrown trees until she spotted Iceburg's orange tunic. "And Franky's playing with that girl. She's been chasing him around the island with her cat. Which is actually a rabbit, but don't tell her that."

Nami laughed. "I'll remember that."

They sat in silence for a while. Kid kept at his carving. Nami stared off at the sea and listened to the drunk old woman muttering to her fish inside. They had nothing better to do, though Nami supposed she could try to help Kokoro with some chores while they waited for Franky to return from his game with the girl. Kokoro didn't seem inclined to work on any tasks, though, so Nami took the opportunity to relax until Kid finally gave up on his stick and tossed it to the dirt. It stuck straight in the ground just like a spear.

"You think anything that old lady said is useful for you?" he asked as he leaned back against the house.

"I think so," she said, nodding. "It at least gave me a different perspective to think from."

Kid hummed. There was a lengthy pause before he chuckled lightly. "I know who your matriarch is," he sang, grinning down at her when she shot him a glare. "I _was_ listening the whole time. That old lady gave everything away."

Nami huffed. "I thought you were enjoying the guessing game?"

"I was, but I'm enjoying this even more. To think I have one of Freyja's daughters in my household…" He chuckled some more.

Nami gave him a slow smile. "You're wrong. I'm not Freyja's daughter."

Kid's smug attitude vanished in surprise. He looked at her with a cocked brow. "She said you got her magic."

"I do, but she's not the mother of my lineage," she explained carefully. He looked confused and eager for a straight answer for once. She supposed he knew enough that it was silly to hold back the rest, and she could trust him to keep it a secret. She cocked her finger, beckoning him to lean down so she might whisper in his ear. "She's the _grand_ mother," she hinted. Kid's brows furrowed, and Nami leaned in more. "She bore a daughter by her husband, Odr. She is Freyja's most beautiful and precious treasure."

Kid sat back abruptly, eyes wide, mouth agape, and stared down at her. He might have been getting close to figuring it out on his own, but it seemed he hadn't been as close as he thought.

"I'm _trusting_ _you_ to keep that to yourself," she reminded him. "You tell _no one_. Not even Killer. If you do, I _will_ take your suggestion and cut out your tongue."

He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head to clear his stupor. "I swear I won't say anything," he said, glowering down at her. Leaning in closer, his ire melted away to show the eager curiosity lighting up his eyes. "But tell me how? I haven't heard many tales about Hnoss, and none of her bearing a child."

She was about to explain when she heard a child's shrieking laughter and Franky's playful roar. Even if he had entrusted the other two men with her tale, she would still rather keep most of it a secret.

"I'll tell you the whole tale later," Nami said. She was met with a dissatisfied glare, but Kid would just have to be patient. He at least had one of his many questions finally answered, he would survive a few more hours before hearing all the details. She reached over to squeeze his arm as she stood. Franky and Chimney raced through the trees just then, the little girl with a rabbit hanging from her arms. There was no time to tell the story. "I promise, Kid. _Later_."

Kid huffed, but relented with a nod.

"You all done talking with the old lady?" Franky asked, bent over in front of them, catching his breath. Chimney ran into the house shouting for her grandmother.

"I think I've heard all that I need," Nami said. "Thank you for bringing me to meet her."

Franky grinned. "You're welcome. We likely won't be leaving for England for a few more days while Iceburg's men ready their ships, so if you want to come here to chat with her again, just let me know and I'll bring you."

"Just don't forget the honey-wine," Kokoro called from the house as she ambled toward the door with her granddaughter latched onto her arm. "Or the ale," she added with a low chuckle. "Oh, and while you're in England, see if you can find some of that grape wine those Christians are so fond of. You ever try that?" She pointed at Nami.

"Once," was all she said, unwilling to elaborate on that. Arlong brought some back to the camp during a raid in Frankia and allowed her to try it. It would have been delicious if not for the blood on the cask souring her stomach.

"Ah, then you must have some with me when you return," Kokoro decided. The old lady grinned at Franky. "You remember that, Franky. I want their fruit wine as a gift."

"You got it, old lady," he said before turning toward the trees. "Idiot Iceburg," he called, "get your lazy ass up. We need to get you back to all that work you're avoiding."

Iceburg sat up with a yawn. "I'm not avoiding anything."

"I thought you were supposed to meet with the trader from Bergen about their new knarr," Franky reminded as his brother appeared from the trees, glowering.

"Mm, I don't want to," he muttered. "Paulie can handle it without me."

Franky sighed. "Well, either way, we should get back. I'll come by after the raids, Kokoro."

"Mm, I'll bring ale while their raiding," Iceburg said, waving at the old woman on his way back to their boat. "All my people are leaving me. I don't want to do their work, too."

"You hardly do your own work," Franky muttered as he followed after his brother.

Nami laughed, then turned to bow her head to Kokoro. "Thank you for talking with me. I'll pay you a visit when we return."

Kokoro chuckled and waved her off.

Kid remained silent as he followed behind Nami, only sparing a grunt and short nod to the old woman. He was once again stuck in his thoughts, and Nami was curious to know what had brought on his pensive mood. She doubted she would get any answers. He could be more tightlipped than she was when he wanted to be. She wouldn't press him on his mood today. She knew that some thoughts were best kept private, and that if it were something that might concern her, he would eventually share what plagued his mind once he had it sorted.

In the meantime, she had plenty of her own thoughts to occupy herself with.

* * *

Kid hadn't understood all that Nami had spoken of in Kokoro's home concerning her lineage. He knew that the discussion of Freyja and her role as a chooser of the slain had been of importance to Nami. The way she said her name, as though everything was falling into place, told him as much. He wasn't sure what thoughts it had sparked, and decided that he didn't need to know. All that mattered was that it might help her with her magic and visions.

He was certainly pleased to know who among the Vanir she bore heritage from.

But despite that revelation, his thoughts had become stuck on only one subject from their talk. Nami hadn't been sure why she was brought to him, and he, while certain it was because of Odin's will, hadn't fully understood the reasons beyond that. He hadn't cared. All that mattered was that she was entrusted to him, and he would not fail in the task and challenge presented to him. Why it had to be her, why it had to be him, he had not really thought enough to care. Nami had, though, and the answer she received trapped him in endless musings.

The old lady was not wrong in her assessments of what they provided each other. The past night and early morning made it abundantly clear that they both relied on each other. There were traits she possessed, had brought into his life, that had quickly endeared her to him and made him that much more determined to protect her.

She was kind, even if she could be quick to erupt in a fiery anger that never failed to amuse him. When she cared for someone, she was sweet and compassionate. She would grow angry when they were wronged, sorrowful when they were hurt. She was a comfort to those who needed a softer touch and kinder words. He hadn't known many who would touch him so gently and show genuine concern for his life. His own mother had been cold to him until she couldn't hide her love any longer, but by then it was too late. Killer had been the only person to grace him with any sort of affection in his life, and now he had Nami there to reveal all he kept hidden behind steel walls and endless rage. She brought him peace. She brought him warmth. She cried for him. She smiled for him. She gave him a piece of the world that he had rarely known before.

He knew that all the old lady said was true for Nami, too. While she might have feared him at first, she still trusted him with her well-being. Whenever she was scared, all it took was one touch from him, sometimes just a look, and she allowed herself to relax, believing that he wouldn't let any harm come to her. He knew she felt most secure when he was near. Her own magic seemed to sense it, too. He was the one who chased her visions away when she couldn't do it herself. He was the one she leaned on, he was the one who supported her. He knew she was strong enough to hold herself up, she had to be if she could endure eight years with a man who sought to abuse her power for his own gain. But he would see that she continued to face forward, no matter how terrifying the future, and not give up.

All through the afternoon and into supper, his mind circled as he tried to decipher what all that could mean. He understood that Nami needed him. No matter how strong he believed her to be, she was still unable to fight against giants. But he didn't understand why it should matter that she gave him something in return. He had never thought he needed someone like her in his life, but it seemed the gods disagreed. Now that he had her, though, he wasn't sure what he might do if she were ever to leave. He hadn't thought of what his life would be like without her in it, and now that he was, he found he hated the feeling it brought.

So caught up in his thoughts, Kid had forgotten all about the story Nami had promised him. After supper, he went off to his quarters, still trying to understand why the thought of Nami leaving hurt. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep while his mind was so occupied, so he had a servant bring a bowl of water and some linens. He needed to shave before the coarse bristles began to annoy him, and if he was lucky, it might push those thoughts and unwanted emotions away.

He stripped from his vest and tunic while he waited for the servant to return with his things. When they returned shortly after with a bowl of warm water, he was surprised to see Nami trailing after them, a linen cloth dangling from her arms.

"What is it?" he asked as the servant set the water down on a table set in the corner.

"I promised you a story," Nami said, setting the linen beside the bowl while the servant bowed and took their leave. "You disappeared after supper before I could tell it."

"Forgot about that," he grunted.

He crouched in front of his chest to find his bar of soap and silver razor. Nami leaned against the table, watching him gather his things.

"You've hardly spoken since we left Kokoro's, too," she idly commented.

He glanced at her as he returned to the table and sat in the only chair beside it. "I've had a lot on my mind," he explained.

"Care to discuss any of it?" she asked while he went to lean over the basin.

"Not really," he answered dismissively. He really just wanted to shave and forget the thoughts plaguing his mind.

Nami hummed, but didn't move to leave. Instead, as he went to splash water on his face, she picked up his razor. He stared at her in confusion, but she only smacked his shoulder. "Sit back," she commanded with a wave. "I'll help."

"Why?" he asked uncertainly, but slowly eased back in the chair.

"Because I want to tell you this story."

"You don't have to help me shave. If you want to tell it, then tell it."

"It'll keep my hands busy," she explained. "And you seem so distracted, I'm afraid you'll cut yourself."

"I won't cut myself, woman," he grumbled, but sank back despite his doubts. It was more relaxing to have someone else shave him.

Nami lightly smacked his forehead. He glared, but she merely giggled down at him as she angled his head back. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and let her wet his face. She used the linen so she wouldn't soak his chest with water and gently dabbed the damp cloth over his cheeks and jaw.

"How did you learn to shave a man's face?" he asked as she began to lather his skin and growing beard with soap.

Her hands stilled along his jaw. He peeked open an eye to see her somber frown. When she caught his gaze, she sighed and returned to her task. "Arlong regularly made me shave Jarl Genzo's hair and beard when it grew too long," she explained. He shut his eyes, satisfied with that answer, and was about to let the subject drop rather than press her on that relationship any further. He knew she never liked to talk about either Jarl in depth. She either looked sad or scared when she discussed them, and he hated both expressions on her. But then she sighed as she took the razor and set it against a cheek. "And when I became a grown woman, Arlong decided I should begin practicing all the duties of a proper woman in servitude of her husband, and had me help him shave and trim his hair after he bathed if he needed it."

His eyes snapped open to stare at her in surprise. She refused to meet his gaze, held his skin taut so she could cleanly sweep the razor against the coarse hair.

"Had he arranged a marriage for you?" he asked, uncertain why his heart was beating so fast. All he knew was that he didn't like that possibility. She had never mentioned a betrothal or husband, though knowing her, he doubted she would ever bring that up unless she absolutely had to.

Nami pursed her lips. "None that I was aware of at that time," she answered after a moment. Her words felt misleading. She was unaware of a betrothal then, but now… He had a feeling this was the reason she ran away. "I think he just took pleasure in forcing me to play servant for him."

She still wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he had come to expect that from her where Arlong was concerned. She always held something back about the life she led in Tingstad. What little she ever did tell him made him dislike the man even more. Arlong seemed to treat her more like a slave than a ward. He branded her, raised her to serve, and seemed determined to use her for his ambitions, all while forcing her to watch as her people suffered.

Kid gently reached up to take Nami by the wrist before she could sweep the razor over his cheek again. Her expression had turned distant and hollow, separated from whatever emotions she might be feeling. He hated that look the most.

"You don't have to do this," he said firmly. "You have no responsibility to serve me as you did him."

Nami's lips gently curled into a smile, the warmth returning to her gaze as she did. "It's okay, Kid. I _want_ to." She giggled quietly as he slowly released her. "Though, if you ever want me to do this again, I will expect a good payment for my services. I won't serve you without proper compensation for my work."

Kid snorted and relaxed back, allowing her to continue. "Should have known." He hummed as she made another easy, gentle sweep of the razor. He listened to the water splash, and then she ran wet linen over the clean skin. Her touch was soft, but sure. She was well practiced. "Surprised that man let you anywhere near him with a razor," he mused. "Wasn't he afraid you might slit his throat?"

Nami hesitated before her next pass. Her touch was rougher when she cut the hairs next, but he didn't complain. It was his fault for bringing up Arlong again.

"He knew that I was smart enough not to. It didn't matter if I was a child, or blessed by the gods; his men would have seen that I suffered until I pleaded for death, and then made me suffer even more," she whispered. "But that didn't stop me from dreaming it. If I could be certain that the village would be safe from their wrath, I would have slit his throat the second he put the razor in my hand."

Her tone had turned cold and unforgiving, and he had no doubt that she had dreamed of killing Arlong many times over the years. She was right not to, though. If his men were so loyal to their master, she would never know peace again, and the people she was trying so hard to protect would be far more miserable than they already were. When he finally met this bastard on the battlefield, though, he would make sure to cut his throat open just as Nami had wanted to herself.

He let the subject drop after that, allowing Nami to calm down as she continued with her task. Once her touch softened again, he decided to let the silence linger a while longer. Her touch was making him drowsy, and he was glad that she volunteered for the task. By the time she was cleaning the cut hairs off his face with the cloth, his thoughts had cleared enough to leave him feeling at peace. He was nearly asleep when he felt her fingers trail through his hair, gently tugging it from its leather tie.

He slowly blinked his eyes open and reached up to run his hand over his smooth jaw. He didn't feel a single scratchy hair left and hummed his approval while sinking down further in the chair, silently allowing her to continue her grooming as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"Do you still want to hear the story?" she asked quietly.

He moaned low in his throat as she ran her fingers over his scalp, just behind his ears. He fought back the urge to shiver when she did it again.

"Might as well," he muttered. "Before I fall asleep."

She giggled softly and continued playing with his hair, lulling him into a dreamlike state with her gentle touch.

"Long ago, there was a small village in Svealand, far to the north where the summer was filled with endless sun, and the winter was endless snow. The village was hearty and peaceful, led by a chieftain said to be as loved by his people as Freyr was loved by all the gods. Stories abounded that he was truly an elf from Alfheim because his smile was as radiant as the sun and his laughter brought warmth to all their hearts. But he was a man, mortal like all the rest, and as kind and benevolent as he was to his people, he was just as fierce and wrathful a warrior toward their enemies. He struck such deep fear in other chieftains that few dared invade his lands, and those that did were immediately struck down and their lands taken into his own.

"Peace reigned for twenty years under his guidance. His people were happy and rich and said to be blessed by the most prosperous of gods. They gave sacrifices to Freyr and his sister Freyja, and surely they had received their protection for all they gave in their names.

"Curious of this chieftain and his people, Freyja sought him out with her beloved Hnoss. She disguised herself as a poor widow named Gefn and clad them both in rags and mud, and came to the village claiming to be in need of a hall to sleep in for only a fortnight. The chieftain graciously welcomed them to his home and hearth, gave them the finest furs to sleep with, and shared with them his best ale and mead. Freyja was most impressed with the hospitality and went to their fields and planted a single fingernail, guaranteeing that their crops would flourish for the next nine harvests. She wove them nets with locks of her golden hair, ensuring they would never want for fish for sixteen summers. And she mixed a drop of blood in the smith's molten iron, gifting the chieftain with a sword that would never rust for as long as he lived.

"All this she did in secret, for she was used to walking among strange lands and strange people in search of her lost husband, never sharing her real name with any she met, even as she gifted them with all she could in thanks for their care. But her daughter was still young then and had rarely journeyed from Sessrúmnir. She was curious of this new world, infatuated with its people. While her mother journeyed through the chieftain's lands, Hnoss stayed at the hall and village to learn more about these short-lived mortals.

"Of course this created some problems. Freyja's disguise did not diminish Hnoss' beauty, and all who met her said she was as radiant as their gold and gave her name to their most valuable treasures. Men desired her, courted her, brought her all their most precious belongings in order to win her favor. While she enjoyed their attentions, there was one who was different from all the others, who stood above them all in Hnoss' eyes.

"The chieftain often watched her from afar, and was as friendly to her as he was to others, but he didn't shower her with gifts beyond what she needed during her stay. He did not speak of how her beauty stole his voice, or how her touch blinded him with ecstasy. He seemed resilient to her natural allure.

"His gentle kindness captured Hnoss' attentions better than the jewels her suitors brought her. Instead of declarations of love and devotion, he regaled her with tales of other lands, told her of the battles he had fought. He spoke of his siblings and danced with her at every feast and laughed over ale. He asked her of her mother, and listened to her speak of her lost father and how her mother cried for him every night he was gone.

"As the end of her two weeks there neared, Hnoss became reluctant to leave for she had fallen in love with him, and he with her. She pled that her mother let her stay, but while Freyja was fond of the man, she said that Hnoss' place was in Sessrúmnir with her. If she remained in Midgard with the mortal man, she would lose her source of immortality, grow old, and die, and Freyja could not bear to lose her daughter that way.

"But Hnoss was stubborn in her determination to remain with the chieftain. Her last night there, she slipped into his bedchambers, shed her disguise, and seduced him. The next morning, she left with her mother, but whispered promises to her love that she would return with the next full moon, while her mother was to be away from the hall, and they would never have to be parted again.

"She counted down every day she had to be apart from him, and became anxious as the moon glowed brighter in the night sky. The chieftain, too, waited just as eagerly for his love to return, his feelings so strong he forsook all food and drink, let his hair grow long and beard grow thick. He dreamed of her every night and longed for her company every day.

"But as the month neared its end, a foul trick came to curse them. Loki had learned of their plans to elope and sought to interfere. He whispered of the plan to a giant who had long desired Freyja, as many other giants had, and also sought the affection of her daughter. The night that Hnoss was to sneak away to Midgard, the great jotunn intercepted her and whisked her away to the icy mountains of Jotunheim, intent on making her his bride.

"Meanwhile, the chieftain went to meet her at the entrance to his village, but found her absent. He feared the worst for he knew she would never forsake him. He walked for days, in every direction, calling for his beloved to return to him. He grew frail and weak but refused to lose hope in his search. A week passed when he stopped at a river, desperate to quench his thirst. As he knelt down to cup water in his hands, he noticed that the stream was filled with amber stones, all rolling along with the water's current. He forgot all about his thirst as he went to pick up one of the largest stones, thinking he might be hallucinating in his madness.

"The amber was true, and not only that, it was born of Hnoss' magic and filled his mind with visions of her. She had been frozen into a glacier deep in the mountains after refusing the giant. Trapped in ice, all she could do was weep. Her tears struck the water melting from the ice and turned to stones within the rivers and streams to amber.

"Fearing that his love would be lost if he did not find her, the chieftain went out in search of offerings to give as a sacrifice to Freyja for he knew he was not strong enough to battle a giant alone. He knew that the offering had to be grand in order to obtain all the strength he needed, so with his enchanted sword he slew a wild boar thrice his height, fought a great wild cat and lost an eye before slaying the beast, and built a stone altar to present these gifts to the goddess.

"Freyja had been at an assembly with the Aesir when her daughter vanished, and had only just returned to her hall to find her gone. She had worried that the girl had gone to her mortal lover, and had begun to seek him out when his invocation of her name reached her. She rushed to his altar to hear what he had learned and grew so angry that the earth shook beneath him and the skies turned dark and malevolent. She knew Loki would be the one to blame and swore that she would get her daughter back and see that this giant was punished for daring to take her. But the chieftain's sobs and pleas gave her pause.

"He wished to prove his worth. He wished to save the goddess Hnoss, to prove that his love for her was true, so that Freyja might bless their union. His devotion moved her, but she feared that this trial would cost him his life for she only knew of gods possessing the strength and power to slay giants. Uncertain, but desperate to have her daughter returned, Freyja called for Odin's counsel, surely his wisdom could guide them.

"Odin declared that a mortal of great devotion and purity of intent could wield the power of the gods given they make a sacrifice equivalent to the power they wished to gain. He said that the man had already starved himself in search of his lover, had given an eye merely to call for Freyja's aid. If he was willing to make another sacrifice of himself to her, then he was truly worthy of the magic he needed. But his advice came with a warning – such magic was not meant to be wielded by mortal hands for it could corrupt their minds and drive them to madness or death.

"She returned to the chieftain to tell of her decision, while meaning to forewarn him that this pursuit may cost him his life and thus bring sorrow to her daughter. Before she could speak of the warning, though, he pulled out his knife and drew it over the palm of his hand. He took the amber he collected from the stream and held it tight, squeezing until the stone was bathed red in his blood. He swore his life to Freyja and said she may take him to Folkvangr to join her warriors once Hnoss was freed.

"With his oath spoken and his sacrifice made, Freyja cast her seidr to gift him with the strength of her brother who had only need of an antler when he slayed the giant Belí. She then wove the amber with her hair and hung it around his neck as she kissed his brow. The amber was enchanted to gift him with sight so he might see where the giant was hiding and what attacks he would make so he might avoid them.

"The chieftain set out to Jotunheim where he found the giant drinking beneath the glacier Hnoss had been trapped in. Amber stones flowed from the ice where it melted, for upon laying eyes on her lover, Hnoss began to weep even more. She had seen a vision of the sacrifice he had made to free her and she knew that he would be lost to her for eternity as he fought in endless war in Freyja's fields.

"The chieftain and the giant fought a bloody battle. Freyja's gifts were enough to allow the man to fight on equal ground at first, but the longer the battle went on, the more his mind became lost to him. The strength was addictive, intoxicating, far beyond anything he had known before. Foresight made him forget what was past, what was present, what was future, as they spun and bled together. But still he fought on, refusing to let his mortal weaknesses be his undoing.

"A moment came where he lost his senses and the giant gained the advantage and sunk his blade deep into the chieftain's side, cutting out his entrails. The chieftain fell and the ice rumbled with Hnoss' screams. So loud were her wails that the glacier cracked and shattered, spraying the giant with shards and daggers of ice, cutting him down while the chieftain clung to what little life he had left and stumbled to his feet. He was bleeding out, on the verge of death, but he would not give up.

"Hnoss, freed from the ice, ran to catch him before he could fall and held him up as he plunged his rusting and crumbling sword straight through the fallen giant's heart, killing his foe with his very last breath. She sank to the ground, cradling him in her arms, and cried and screamed and begged for him to come back to her. She sat there rocking him as she would a child until Freyja came to collect his spirit and take him to Folkvangr as promised.

"Hnoss pleaded for her mother to leave him be, to let him live, but Freyja refused. She had no choice, for if she allowed a dead man to live, it would anger the gods and Norns, and when the chieftain died again, his soul would not be allowed to reside in any of their halls. He would be dragged to Hel where he would suffer an eternity in ice.

"But Freyja felt remorse for the role she might have played in deciding their fate, for if she had not separated the lovers, her daughter might not have tried to run away in the first place. As a gift to her daughter, she took the amber the chieftain wore around his neck, still bathed in his blood, and bound a fragment of his life and seed within the stone. She then pushed the amber into her daughter's womb, for if she could not have her lover, then at least she might have his child.

"Freyja knew that the child would likely carry power unlike any other mortal descended from the gods, for the stone was not only enchanted with her magic, further strengthened by Hnoss' own gifts of foresight, but bore the selfless and devoted love of the chieftain. But even she had not foreseen the potential that child would bear until she came into the world, nor the curse that would end her life so soon, as well as the lives of each daughter born from the amber thereafter."

As Nami's story came to an end, Kid let out a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. She still stood behind him as she combed her fingers through his hair. He was trying to find some response as the whole truth finally sank in. So much was beginning to make sense to him. Nami's easy ability to enchant his men into fawning over her. She was from a line born of a goddess of lust and desire, and a grandmother who embodied beauty and love and sex. Nami was born to be an enchantress of men's basest desires.

And then there was her magic. Hnoss was known to be a seer, one capable of guiding souls to their destiny. If Nami only had the mother's gifts, that would be enough, but she also held Freyja's magic through the enchantment cast upon the amber her line was born from. She very well could carry a potential to shape a soul's destiny if she could find a way to harness and control it, before it drove her mad just as it had done to the father of her lineage.

A thought occurred to him suddenly and he laughed. Nami stopped playing with his hair to lean over him with a frown.

"What?"

"The madness inflicting all the fathers, it's the same madness that took the chieftain."

"And?"

"I don't believe Freyja is the source of that curse," he explained. "The amber you and your foremothers were born from carries a piece of the father's soul, his love for your mother, and thus for the children born from his sacrifice. I might not know much about magic, but I do know that if I were him, I would see that any man unworthy of my daughter was driven straight to his death if he tried to claim her by force, just as the giant attempted with Hnoss. And since he was a mortal, unpracticed in the magic he had been given, and in the throes of his own madness, he likely failed to consider the effects of such a curse on the daughters who carried it."

Nami gaped down at him. "That… actually makes sense." She blinked as she carefully considered his thoughts. "I never considered that."

He grinned up at her. "And it seems that trouble with giants is a common family trait. I've heard many tales of Freyja being desired as a wife by giants, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that her daughter would face the same problem. Now her granddaughter, too."

Nami glared, unamused. "That isn't something to joke about."

"What? It's kind of funny. In a twisted sort of way," he insisted as he sat straight and turned to face her.

"If you had seen what I have seen regarding your death, you wouldn't find it funny," she said flatly.

He supposed that was true. He still found it strangely amusing that he was destined to fall at the feet of a giant in battle for her freedom.

"Speaking of those visions," he said as he stood. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

Nami chewed on her lip as she looked toward the door. She was uncertain like the night before. He understood why she didn't want to rely on his presence, especially since she couldn't always have him there. But he didn't understand why she wouldn't take advantage of him when she knew it helped.

"We could both do with a good night's sleep," he suggested. "We set sail in a few days for England. We'll both want to be at full strength before then."

Nami pursed her lips and finally nodded. "I need to go back to Kalifa's for something to sleep in."

"Just wear one of mine," he said, pointing toward his chest. "It'll save you from hearing the women lecture you about sharing a bed with me."

She laughed. "They'll still lecture me come the morning."

"I'll tell them off." He turned for the bed, kicking his boots off along the way. "Gunda should know better than to lecture you, anyway."

"I think it's just because she's still nervous," Nami said as she pulled a thin white tunic from his chest. He climbed into bed and watched as she turned her back to him. "No peeking, or you'll owe me more gold."

He chuckled. "I really should have guessed you were related to Freyja. Only woman who could love gold more than Rán."

As she laughed, he settled under the blankets and rolled to face away from her. He shut his eyes as he listened to the rustle of fabric, the gentle clatter of her brooches as she set them on the table, and then yet more fabric shifting. Temptation pulled at him as his mind conjured images of her dress slipping down her shoulders, revealing the silky skin of her back. He wondered if she had more freckles than those that sprinkled her shoulders, and the thought teased his fingertips with the urge to trace over each and every blemish he could find.

He had once joked of making her a bed slave as punishment for stealing from him. He had seen her beauty even beneath her ragged appearance and fevered state. But since she had come into his home and protection as a free woman, he put all those thoughts aside. He couldn't see her beauty as anything but another feature, one that drove him insane as it turned his men into her serving boys.

But there, alone in his bedchambers with her, knowing that her beauty was not of mortal origin, he wanted nothing more than to cast one look at her. As slowly and silently as he could, he turned his head and opened his eyes. All the breath left his lungs in a quiet rush at the sight that greeted him.

The gentle flicker of the candles' flames cast over her pale skin, making her glow in the amber light. Shadows traced over the dip of her waist and curve of her spine, making every movement seem a sensuous dance as her blue shift fell down her body to rest at her hips.

She had a freckle beneath her left shoulder blade, another near the small of her back. He licked his dry lips as tendrils of lust fluttered in his gut.

The spell broke when she glanced over her shoulder. He quickly turned away from her tight frown and pretended that he hadn't just been caught. She didn't reprimand him as she hurriedly finished changing behind him, while he clung to his pillow to resist the urge to peek again.

The bed shifted as she climbed in behind him. Her hair tickled his bare shoulder. He tensed when her lips teased his ear.

"You owe me _three_ chests of gold now," she whispered.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled as she settled into bed. "Didn't peek once."

She hummed disbelievingly.

"Only turned my head to stretch my neck," he swore, much to her amusement.

"So if I happen to reach between your legs, I won't find proof claiming otherwise?" she sang before blowing the candles out.

"Nope. You'll find nothing." He curled his legs in to protect the very damning evidence to the contrary.

She snorted. He apparently wasn't very convincing, but she didn't chide him further. And to his great relief, or perhaps disappointment, she didn't make good on her threat to see that he was in fact hard as a rock for her.

Once she had stilled behind him, the room fell into silence that felt strangely tense to him. With a long sigh, he rolled to face her and found her back to him. That was probably for the best. His shirt was large on her and allowed her whole shoulder to slip out. Viewing it from the front, he would likely find an even more tempting sight than her back had provided him, especially with how thin the linen was. He could just make out the outline of her body beneath the white fabric, even in the dark.

He forced his gaze to fix on her exposed shoulder and the scar cutting through her tattoo there. He found he hated that mark even more than before. Every little thing he learned of her life with Arlong made him hate anything associated with the man, most of all the ink claiming her for the giant. He didn't want to see Nami hurt more, but he wished they could just cut that mark from her skin, perhaps replace it with a new tattoo, one of her own choosing.

Without thinking, he traced a finger over the jagged scar, following it from her shoulder, around to her back. Nami shifted to look over her shoulder.

"Has it grown again?" she asked.

"No," he grunted while his touch followed around the ink swirling over her skin, wishing he had the magic to make it disappear.

Nami rolled away again and burrowed into her pillow with a happy sigh. "I was struck with an arrow there in my vision. I thought perhaps it had grown like after my dream of the Norns."

He hummed tiredly and shifted closer, winding his arm around her waist to pull her back into him. Her body was so much softer than his. He could admit to himself he found his own comfort when he had her in his bed.

Nami tensed and let out a quiet squeak when he curled against her back. She arched away from him slightly, but didn't completely pull out of his hold.

"Make that _four_ chests. _Large_ ones. _Liar_ ," she hissed.

He groaned as he belatedly realized he was still hard with arousal, something she could clearly feel with him pressed to her backside. Nestling his face into her hair, he pulled his arm from her waist to let his hand return to its gentle examination of her scar and shoulder. She shivered at his touch as he idly traced up her neck to brush away a strand of hair.

"Blame Freyja and Hnoss for making you in their image," he whispered as she relaxed into him with a quiet sigh. "Still don't think you're pretty," he muttered.

Nami snorted, but made no argument. He was telling the truth. He didn't think she was pretty at all.

No, she was utterly _breathtaking_.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So a very, very long chapter filled with a ton of KidNami bonding and interaction. And Kid is very rapidly falling. He is always going to be the first to fall in a relationship between them, it's just the way he is. This is just the first glimmer of sexual tension from him, too._

 _And I hadn't planned on revealing Nami's whole heritage this soon, at least her maternal heritage, but I realized it would be too important to her growth in what she could do, so I had to bring it forward. I'll give more hints to the other half of her family as the story goes, but that will definitely remain a secret until the end._

 _With the gods she is born from - I've talked about Freyja before, and as obvious as the similarities she and Nami share are, I felt it best to have Nami be born from Hnoss, one of Freyja's two daughters. The other, Gersemi, is practically identical to her sister. There's very, very little I could find on both of them, basically just wikipedia and them being mentioned as existing in my book on Norse mythology, but some sources recounting the Eddas only refer to Hnoss, with just one mentioning Gersemi, too. Hnoss means treasure (hnossi), sometimes translated to gem or jewel, and was a goddess of lust and desire, I found some mention of infatuated love, too. She's also been mentioned to be a seer who saw the end of times and grew sad because of it, and so she guides souls to their destiny with a great deal of care._

 _As for the rest of the 'family'- Odr, Freyja's husband, is a very obscure god, only briefly mentioned in passing. There are some theories that he's Odin, or another aspect of him, or possibly split from the same Germanic god that Norse mythology evolved from, because his name comes from the same root and carries the same meaning (ecstasy, frenzy, etc). There is speculation that Freyja was Odin's second wife or a lover, possibly a union made to join the Aesir and Vanir tribes after the Aesir-Vanir war, but that Odr was created when opinions toward polygyny became less favorable. There is also discourse over whether or not Frigg (Odin's wife) is also Freyja, perhaps they are two embodiments of the same goddess, again split from the proto-goddess their beliefs came from, because of their own similarities. But there are a lot of differences in the stories told, and Freyja and Odr are only mentioned as having the two daughters, while Frigg and Odin have their sons. The debates are endless, it seems, especially since the Norse pantheon is vastly different from other Germanic beliefs because it has these two tribes of gods ruling side by side, with a lot of overlap in their attributes._

 _I make a reference to Freyja's story of her search for Odr when he vanishes at one point or another in their marriage (he is consistently mentioned as being absent). She does go out to the lands in search of him and takes on different names depending on where is she, so she has a lot of names. Gefn is one of them, it means 'giving'. She also cries tears of gold for him (some say red-gold, i.e. amber), and so one of gold's names in Old Norse is 'Freyja's tears'. Obviously I then gave Hnoss a similar ability to cry amber tears for her lost love. Amber is vaguely associated with Freyja at times because it is considered a precious stone._

 _I also reference Freyja's father and twin brother in the conversation with Kokoro. Njord is her father, he is associated with the sea, seafaring, wind, fishing, wealth, and crop fertility. Freyr, who is remarked as the King of the light elves in Alfheim (a gift given to him by the gods as a teething present), is associated with kingship, virility, prosperity, fertility, fair weather, sunshine, and is said to give both peace and pleasure to mortals. He is also seen as the ancestor of the Swedish royalty. Specifically, Freyja's attributes are love, beauty, sex, gold, fertility, seidr (magic), war, and death, she possesses the necklace Brisingamen that she is said to have gotten from four dwarves after sleeping with them when they wouldn't take any other payment (*cough*paid-with-her-body*cough*), rides a chariot pulled by two cats, and, like her brother, is associated with boars as she always has the boar Hildisvini by her side. Thus the sacrifice of a boar and a mountain cat in the story. As for connecting Nami's ability to control the weather in canon to Freyja (as opposed to using Ran who does create storms and maelstroms, steals men and their gold to her halls, and whose name is also said to be robber), seidr is said to be powerful enough in the right hands to control the weather, produce storms or bring needed rain or sun, and Nami refers to her abilities as magic and sorcery now, even if it is based in science._

 _And yes, Freyja is constantly sought after by giants. The story I told of Hnoss and her lover, though, I made up. There really isn't much known of Hnoss (thus making her very convenient for this story). And if you think the way she is impregnated is weird, well... Loki turned himself into a mare and got impregnated by a horse, and later gave birth to Odin's eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, which he is ridiculed for by Njord after Loki tries to demean Freyja for supposedly sleeping with every single god in the room, including her own brother, soooooooo... Mythology is weird. Oh, also Loki got impregnated because he was trying to slow the horse down in its work because the giant who owned it was promised Freyja's hand in marriage if he completed it in a certain amount of time, and when he was getting uncomfortably close to finishing, Odin went 'Oh shit, we can't give him Freyja, she'll be pissed. Loki go fix this.' Loki - he either causes all the trouble, or fixes all the trouble, sometimes both, and usually with Thor coming to help kill a giant in the process. That is his role until the very end when he says fuck all this and gets Ragnarok into motion._

 _Norse mythology is both confusing and really hilarious when he look closely at the stories._

 _Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this very, very long and informative chapter. I seem to be able to write a ton of stuff for this fic in one sitting, I don't know how. And thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. Hopefully the darker subjects of this fic haven't gotten you all running yet. :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Warning: Depictions of violence and some sexual content in this chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Preparation_

Nami made her way into the main hall for the morning meal under the heavy weight of Gunda's and Kalifa's scowls. She had no doubt their disapproval had to do with where she chose to sleep the night before, but the lateness of the hour surely made it worse.

She had slept soundly, and after the vision waking her the previous night, she was all too content to remain in bed well after the sun had risen. That was unlike her. Usually she was one of the first up, often tasked with rousing the men for their morning chores before she went about helping with the meal. But she had needed the rest, just as Kid said. Now she could look at her day and what was to come with a clearer mind.

She knew she had slept late, but she was surprised to see many of the men trickling out, already finished with their meals and ready to go about their tasks for the day. She didn't think it that late, but it had been a chore extracting herself from Kid's arm when she finally tried to drag herself from bed. He was still asleep, happily snoring in his furs without a care in the world, and if he had his way, she would have been stuck in bed with him. That man had an ironclad hold, even in sleep. It was a miracle she wasn't smothered nights she shared a bed with him, and even more a miracle that she managed to escape at all.

"Did you sleep well, Lady Nami?" Gunda asked as she took a seat beside her.

"Yes, far better than the night before," Nami chirped. She could tell her shieldmaiden wanted to lecture her, Kalifa, too, but they both held their tongues. It wasn't a crime for her to share a bed with a man. She was unmarried, as was he. Even if they did more than sleep, they had no right to shame her for it. And since all they did was sleep, they had even less right to say anything on the matter. "I was actually able to clear my mind," she continued, "and I think I have an answer to some of my worries."

Both women leaned forward expectantly.

"I've trained in combat since I was child, but I've rarely made use of it. I think it might be beneficial if I had some practice before we left for England," Nami said. Gunda and Kalifa shared a look, the former concerned, the latter confused. "While I trust that the camp will remain safe, it isn't uncommon to come under attack while the others are away. I want to feel confident in my ability to fight if I need to. I can't run away all the time, and it's unfair to expect all of you to fight and die while I cower in some tent."

"Lady Nami," Gunda said, leaning in to speak at a hush, "Jarl Eustass might not be pleased with that. He's sworn all of us to oaths to protect you. If we let you put yourself in danger by fighting alongside the rest… I don't want to imagine his anger should you get hurt."

"I don't care what he thinks," Nami said frankly, head held high. "If I'm backed into a corner and there is no one else there to defend me, then what? Should I just accept my death right then and there? I refuse to be dead weight to all of you. If we're attacked, I have to be able to protect myself."

Gunda sighed and looked prepared to argue against it more, but Nami brushed her off and looked around the room. She spotted Killer near the door chatting with Wire and Axel, and called for them to give their opinion.

"Killer," Nami said as soon as the blond stood beside their table, "you're Kid's closest friend and confidant, know him better than any of us, so maybe you can speak for him on this." Killer frowned as he glanced between the women, but nodded for her to explain. "I want to practice my skills in combat before we leave for England. I was trained to fight with either an axe or a spear as a child, but I haven't used them in too long. If we run into trouble in England, I don't want to be out of practice and clumsy in defending myself. Gunda is worried that Kid would disapprove."

Killer's frown pursed and he looked toward the hall leading to the guest chambers. Nami waited patiently as he thought. After a minute, he sighed and turned back to her.

"He would not be happy if you were needlessly put in harm's way and injured because of it, but you make a valid point. If worst comes to worst, you may need to fight your own battles. Kid would be even less pleased if you were taken or killed without any fight at all, so if you can at least defend yourself until more warriors come to your aid, then that would be best." Killer paused to smile. "And, knowing Kid as I do, he might enjoy seeing what you're capable of. Not to mention, if a woman wants to pick up a shield, he would never think to stop them. Even if that woman is you, Lady Nami."

Nami gloated openly while Gunda relented with a heavy sigh.

"It seems I am overruled on this matter," the shieldmaiden said. "I would be happy to spend the day training with you, then."

"As would I," Kalifa chimed in. "You need practice with as many opponents as you can find."

"And I would very much enjoy watching this," Axel said with a sly grin angled at Kalifa. "I expect you to get my revenge for me, Lady Nami."

Nami laughed.

"Seeing that our ships are prepared, I'll round up some of the other men," Wire said. "We can all use the exercise before we go. It'll be advantageous to have you practice with them, too. You won't be fighting women in England, after all."

"And I suppose I'll wake Kid," Killer said, sighing. "He certainly won't want to miss this."

Nami snickered as she watched Killer head off toward Kid's room. She didn't envy his task. Waking Kid could be deadly if not done with care.

She finished her meal quickly while the men went off to gather the others. She then went with Gunda to change into trousers and a tunic, and don the leather armor they crafted for her back in Drafn. The thick leather fit snug over her torso and shoulders, but allowed her to move freely enough to wield a weapon. It was lighter than the armor most of the men wore, lacking the chainmail or metal pieces to help further defend against edged weapons. Chainmail was costly and time consuming to make, and if she was not going to run headlong into battle with the men, there was no real need to make such elaborate armor for her. The leather would do well to take some of the force, but she would need to avoid any reckless fighting.

Gunda and Kalifa helped cinch her into the leathers, while she did the same for them with their armor. The other two women donned lighter leather, though she knew Gunda had a vest partially lined with mail for battle. Since they were only sparring with her, they felt no need to wear more protection. Gunda wore her sword, Kalifa her whip and a small knife, while Nami left her own weapons behind. The men would have better weapons meant for training so she wouldn't have to damage the axe that once belonged to her mother. She would prefer to save that for a real battle.

Once they were ready, they found Killer waiting outside. He led them down the hill, through the narrow alleys between the men's quarters, to a square overlooking the strait. Kid's men had already gathered, with a few doing drills under Wire's command.

Killer led them to one side where their extra shields waited. He gestured for them to help themselves and stepped back to watch, trusting Gunda and Kalifa to oversee her training.

Initially she worked with Gunda on her stance with a shield. Arlong had trained her merely for the sake of self-defense, and preferred her to use weapons that kept her at a distance from enemies. He didn't train her to fight in a shield wall alongside his brothers, so felt no need to have her practice with a shield more than necessary. The added weight was cumbersome for her. She was used to fighting without being laden down with too many weapons. Her axe was small, useful when her opponent came too close. Her fighting then was quick and agile, her strikes aimed to knock an opponent down and away, allowing her to escape behind larger warriors sworn to defend her. But now she was trying to learn a new technique so she wouldn't have to rely on Kid's men as her only shield. She hadn't cared if Arlong's warriors died for her. She spent every night for eight years praying that they would all die in the next battle they fought; she would shed no tears for them, not like she would for Kid and his men.

When she trained with an axe, Arlong set either Kuroobi or Hachi against her. The former she hated training with the most. He was relentless and brutal, refused to hold back as he took a dull sword or axe and beat at her weapon until she was flat on her back, pleading for him to stop. It took everything she had to deflect his blows. She was always exhausted and sore after only a short time with Kuroobi. He left her in the dirt once she couldn't take anymore, grumbling about how weak she was. He once told her that she only had Arlong to thank for her life. That if it were up to him, she would have been dead a long time ago. Apparently he didn't trust her, nor did he think she was the daughter of Rán Arlong believed her to be, which meant they were better off putting her in the ground.

Hachi wasn't nearly as bad. He at least tried to make a game of it most of the time. He would take an apple and get down on his knees, then tell her that if she knocked the apple from his head, they would be done training for the day. It was far more difficult than it seemed the first time he came up with the game. Hachi might not have forced her into defensive stances or beat her into the mud, but he was quick to block each and every one of her blows, all while sitting on the ground. If she then let her guard down for a second, he gave her a light tap to a shoulder, or the back, or the leg, and declared that she had lost a leg or an arm or her head. Sometimes he made her hobble on one leg or attack with an arm behind her back if he got enough strikes in. It was the closest she knew of fun with Arlong's men, and when she turned thirteen and finally knocked the apple from Hachi's head, he stole her a cup of honey-wine and a piece of Arlong's favorite herring as a reward.

Training with Gunda and Kalifa was something else entirely. It wasn't fun like it could be with Hachi, but she didn't fear for her life like she had so many times with Kuroobi. It was tempered and slow at first, with Gunda enforcing her stance, sharply correcting her every time she let her shield drop too low, or she held it too far out, leaving her open to a strike. Kalifa acted as the offense, attacking with her own axe, but her strikes weren't too hard in the beginning as she gave Nami the chance to practice her stance first. Once Nami seemed more confident, Kalifa began to make a greater effort to disarm her or get by her defense. At one point she had Nami retreating more than advancing, but she managed to keep to her feet and waited for the chance to counter one of Kalifa's strikes.

Patience was always her strong suit. When fighting against an opponent like Kuroobi, she had to learn how to use her environment to her advantage. If she couldn't outfight them, she could at least outwit them. So while Kalifa began to relax her stance as Nami ran around the square in her escape, Nami finally found her opening to make a quick strike. There was one patch of ground that had softened beneath Nami's foot as she made another pivot away from Kalifa's strike. She held her stance, but as she danced around the square, she steadily led the other woman to the spot and sure enough Kalifa lost her footing for a brief second, leaving Nami open to slash her axe away and then shove her to the ground with her shield.

She heard Axel cheer somewhere on the other side of the yard, but her whole attention was on Kalifa's irate scowl.

Kalifa tossed away her shield and jumped back to her feet. Nami took measured steps back, but threw her shield away as she watched the woman stretch her neck. The look on her face said it wasn't going to be a friendly spar any longer, so Nami prepared herself for the worst. If she could handle the relentless assaults of an ill-tempered giant, surely she could stand against a single mortal woman's.

Kalifa lunged toward her with a slash. Nami reacted on instinct, raised her axe, and caught the blade to spin and deflect it away. She came back quickly while Nami was open, and forced her to jump back before the dull blade could cut at her stomach. Nami spun away from another strike, and then another. Batted at the low arc of another swing and took the chance to counter, only to have her wrist captured and used to yank her in close to the other woman. She ducked Kalifa's next swing, twisted her arm to force her to release her wrist, and then kicked the woman in the side to regain some distance.

Nami only had a split second to catch her breath before she had to dodge another wild slash. Just as before, she was stuck on defense, running and blocking and dodging. Her lungs burned with the effort, but Kalifa didn't look ready to stand down yet. At one point their axe-heads tangled and stuck, and Nami heard the first splinter of the shaft breaking, but she was more concerned with fighting Kalifa's strong pull as she used their grappled axes to drag Nami in.

She cried out at the sharp pull Kalifa gave to her hair, but stubbornly refused to plead for mercy as she tried to untangle herself. She managed to shove the other woman's axe away and was about to strike the handle of her own into the woman's stomach, but Kalifa twisted until she was behind her and Nami had to quickly raise her weapon to block the blade coming dangerously close to her throat.

"Yield," Kalifa said flatly. "I'm obviously more skilled. I could have killed you three times over by now."

Nami growled and reacted without thinking. She ignored the pulse of pain that came as she crashed the back of her head into Kalifa's face, and shoved her way down and out of the woman's hold as she caught her bearings from the unexpected strike. A lull came to their battle then as Kalifa lifted a hand to her bleeding nose, and Nami tossed her now broken axe to the side.

She circled the yard as Kalifa examined her own weapon and determined it was in no shape to continue. Kalifa tossed the axe away and ripped a sword from one of the men's hands. It was then Nami noticed they had all ceased their drills to watch, backing away to give them space. Nami scampered back to Wire and took the staff he held. It was weighted at one end to balance as a spear would, but lacked the sharp point so as not to accidentally impale anyone. They weren't trying to kill each other out there, merely practice. Though, looking at Kalifa's angry scowl and bloody face, it was hard to tell if she knew that, too.

She was more confident with a spear than an axe. She could keep her distance with the weapon, it also played to her agility better. Arlong supplied her with a light weight spear, short and easy to lash and strike with. She couldn't cause extensive damage with her slashes, but she could do enough to disarm or trip up an enemy. She had a far easier time knocking the apple from Hachi's head with the spear, too. Though fighting Kuroobi wasn't any better.

With her new weapon in hand, she continued to circle her opponent. This time when Kalifa swung at her with her sword, Nami snapped her spear out to bat it away, and then lunged forward to strike at Kalifa's stomach. The woman dodged quickly, and Nami had to dance away from another swing. They went back and forth, each getting a small strike in, then blocking the next. Nami got a hard hit to Kalifa's wrist and forced her to drop her sword, then leap away as Nami thrust her spear out. Nami almost thought it over then, but Kalifa surprised her as she drew the whip she always kept at her side.

Nami cried out as it lashed at her hands while wrapping around her spear. They each tugged on the other; Nami fighting to free her weapon, Kalifa fighting to bring her in close for a hit. Kalifa won that battle as she wound her whip around her arms. Once Nami was in reach, she threw a hard elbow into her jaw. But she made the mistake of letting Nami get in close enough for her own hit, and soon she was doubled over after Nami rammed the end of her spear into her gut. Her hold on the whip loosened enough for Nami to get free, and she moved fast while Kalifa was still gasping for breath.

She went low, swung her spear at the backs of Kalifa's knees and upended her. The woman crashed flat on her back again and raised her arms to block the strike of Nami's spear that would have killed her if it had it's point, or knocked her unconscious if Nami hadn't stopped her hit just above Kalifa's face.

Nami gasped for breath as she pulled back and stepped away. Her lungs burned and she was soaked in sweat. A metallic taste filled her mouth, and she wiped at her lips with the back of her hand. She found her skin stained with blood, and couldn't help but laugh.

Kid's men were shouting and hollering around her, she heard some whistling, but she hardly even noticed as she stepped back toward Kalifa who lay panting on the ground. The blood around her nose was beginning to clot and dry, but her simmering anger hardly waned in her cold blue eyes.

"Sorry," she said as she held out a hand to help the woman up. "I didn't mean to hit you so hard."

Kalifa scowled at her, but went to take her hand. Nami belatedly realized she shouldn't have let her guard down and quickly found herself pulled down and flipped onto her back. She just barely got her hands up to grab Kalifa's wrist, blocking the knife poised at her throat.

She forgot about her knife.

"Never apologize to your enemy," the woman hissed from atop her.

"I don't remember making you my enemy," Nami said, straining against the woman as she pushed down. "But if that's what you want…" She growled as she held tight to Kalifa's wrist, thrust her hips up, and spun her off to the side. While Kalifa scrambled to get to her feet, Nami rolled toward her lost spear, snatched it up, and had it pointed up at the woman who barely stopped short of impaling herself on the end.

"I've killed you twice now," Nami said, gasping for air but refusing to drop her weapon. "I think we can call an end to this."

Kalifa sneered and looked ready to lunge despite Nami's insistence that it was over, but Wire jumped in before she could.

"You're done," he insisted as he gently pushed Kalifa away. "I don't think you'll want to face my Jarl if you give her more than a cut lip."

Wire pointed off toward the hill, and Nami angled her head back to see Kid watching where he sat alone. He held an apple in one hand, knife in the other, but his whole attention was set on Kalifa as his lip curled into a sneer. Even sitting, he looked tense and ready to race down the slope to interfere if Kalifa tried to attack again, and the woman knew it. Nami turned back when she heard Kalifa huff, watched her take a breath, then relax her shoulders. She tossed away her knife once she had completely calmed, and Nami dropped her own weapon when the woman smiled apologetically.

She didn't say anything, but held out her hand, offering to help Nami off the ground. She eyed the hand warily before taking it. As she was hauled to her feet, the men around them clapped and whistled again.

"I think you will be fine in England," Kalifa said, giving her a firm pat on her shoulder.

Nami winced at the touch. As the adrenaline of the fight wore off, every single ache and pain began to scream for attention. She felt like one big bruise.

"Yeah, I doubt the English are as tough as you," Nami joked as she hunched over to suck in deep gulps of air. "I hope they aren't."

Kalifa chuckled while draping Nami's arm around her shoulder. "I think you've earned a rest."

"Just a rest?" she whined, but let the woman help her over to the edge of the square so they could sit on the ground out of the way. Every muscle seemed to cramp as she lowered herself onto the dirt. Her joints felt stiff and achy. She could do with a very long, hot bath. And a comfortable bed. She might be sleeping in again the next morning.

"You were far too rough," Gunda lectured Kalifa as she swooped in with linen cloths. She tossed one at Kalifa, a second she pressed to Nami's lip like a worried mother, ignoring Nami's hiss when it stung. "You were supposed to be helping an ally train, not killing each other."

Nami and Kalifa muttered their apologies for worrying her.

"I'll see to having a bath drawn for you, Lady Nami," Gunda continued, prompting Nami to grin at her. "Would you like to have it Jarl Eustass' quarters, or will you be returning to Lady Kalifa's?"

"I'll remain with Kid until we leave," Nami decided, giggling. "He might sulk if I don't. And see about finding a really strong brew. I think I might need it tonight to ease my pain."

"I will see what Jarl Iceburg has stored," Gunda said just as Heat made his way over with a bag slung over his shoulder. The shieldmaiden let Nami take the cloth to hold to her lip, leaving her for the healer to tend.

As tired and sore as fighting with Kalifa had left her, Nami hoped it would be enough to get her to move when she needed to. She felt confident that she could pull it off, but only time would tell if she could change the fate she had foreseen.

* * *

Kid had been torn over Nami's idea to train with her shieldmaiden. He couldn't begrudge her desire to fight for herself and help protect those she had grown to care for, but she was brought to him so that he and his men could keep her safe, fight the battles she couldn't, and, if need be, die for her. He didn't want her to needlessly put herself at risk. He could respect her determination, though, and he _was_ curious of how well she could fight.

He had settled on the hill with a perfect vantage of the square his men had taken over for their exercise. He watched Gunda instruct Nami with her shield, teaching her defensive skills she obviously lacked. She still left herself open on one side, and hesitated in her attacks, but she had decent survival instincts that kept her moving away from Kalifa's strikes. And she was smart enough to take advantage of her opponent's faltered steps. That kind of foresight and awareness would keep her alive long enough for someone stronger to come in if she couldn't fight on equal footing.

He would have to lecture her later for not finishing Kalifa off the first time she knocked her down. It didn't matter that it was a friendly spar. She didn't have to hurt the woman, but at least show that she could follow through when the advantage swung her way. All it would have taken was one blow to the skull or neck, and her opponent wouldn't get up to come after her again. Granted, she did at least follow through on the spear strikes that would have killed Kalifa if it were a real battle, but he could tell that she was fighting on pure instinct at that point. And she still let her guard down, giving Kalifa the perfect opportunity to attack again.

That woman was starting to piss him off. Even if Nami needed the practice, she was going too hard on her and there were points he began to question if she would actually try to kill Nami. The only thing that kept him in place was the fact his men were watching the fight closely. One wrong move on Kalifa's end, and she would have been subdued in an instant.

When Wire stepped in to finally end the battle, Kid was on edge, ready to run down there and rip the woman away from Nami, himself. His barely restrained anger must have carried enough weight from a distance. The moment he caught Kalifa's gaze, she bowed her head and backed down. As soon as Nami was up off the ground, he sank back in the grass and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. A battle between allies shouldn't be so stressful for spectators.

With the women resting, Kid turned to the apple he had grabbed for a late breakfast. He had overslept far longer than he typically did. He had been exhausted and needed the rest, though even he didn't like waking well after the meal had been cleared with nothing to spare for him. It took a lot of growling to get a servant to bring him an apple. It would hardly tide him over until supper.

He decided to blame Nami for it. It was her fault after keeping him awake so long the previous night, and then waking him early the next morning. And then he couldn't seem to find sleep with her in his bed, not after the story she told him, and especially not after catching an enticing peek at her as she undressed. It was impossible to fall asleep with the images plaguing his mind, all of them involving Nami naked beneath him. He had even contemplated jumping into the sea for a late-night swim in the hopes the cold water would douse his arousal, but if Nami woke up while he was gone, she would likely ask more questions than he cared to answer.

He had shared a bed with her before without any problems, and it wasn't like he was blind to her beauty before. He couldn't understand what might have changed to make him so aware of her body pressed close to his, or so eager to trace over every inch of skin he could touch. Maybe it was just the early rush of excitement over the battles he was sure to face in England. Maybe his body was just looking for an outlet to satisfy him until their raids. That had to be it. He would just have to force his mind away from whatever desire he had for her. Maybe if he joined the men for some exercise he would feel better.

"She didn't look too bad," Killer said as he climbed up the hill. He threw himself onto the grass to recline beside him. "What do you think?"

"She could use more practice with that shield, but she ought to hold up well enough in an attack." Kid cut away a sliver of tart apple and ate it off the end of his knife. "She's smart enough to find a way to stay alive, took advantage where she could. Probably good that woman was relentless in assaulting her. She won't see any mercy or relief in a real battle, might as well get practice under similar conditions."

"I'm surprised to hear you say that considering you looked ready to rip Kalifa's throat out for it," Killer mused.

"It ticked me off to watch, but if she didn't take it too far, then I guess it's fine. Nami's not too beat up, is she?"

"Cut lip. Probably some bruises. Heat's looking at her now. If her usurper Jarl trained her in combat, then I'm sure she can handle a few aches."

Kid grunted and ate another apple slice.

"Do you really believe our camp will be ambushed in England?" Killer asked.

"Nami dreamed it," Kid said.

"Are you certain that it was foretelling? She's seen your death, but you're still here. Maybe she's dreaming of another journey to England, further in the future," Killer reasoned.

"She seemed certain it would be this time. She's still getting a handle on her visions. This will be a test to see how accurate they are. Anyway, better to be prepared for the worst, then caught completely off guard."

"If she's foreseen it, though, then it doesn't matter how prepared we are. We can't change it."

Kid pursed his lips, uncertain how much he should share with Killer. He trusted him without question, but Nami had been furious when he told Iceburg and Franky about her visions. Killer knew more than them already, and he was perceptive enough to figure it out on his own. But she had shared a lot with him in confidence, and he promised to keep her secrets. Though, she had only made him swear not to tell Killer who her matriarch was. There was no such promise regarding her foremother's prophecy.

"Nami thinks she can," he said quietly. "She isn't sure, but the Norns visited her in one dream, and that sea witch was babbling on about what her family was capable of. Our destinies aren't entirely certain, they're not set in stone. She can follow a different branch to alter the outcome, or at least delay it. She can reweave the Norns' tapestry. She doesn't know how, but she's determined to find a way."

Killer grunted and gave a short nod. He understood well enough without Kid having to share more. He really wished he could, though.

He snorted to himself. Killer glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a brow arched in silent question. Kid grinned slyly.

"I know who she's descended from," he sang. He snagged another sliver of apple from his knife, pointedly refusing to say more. If he couldn't share what he knew, he could at least get a kick out of taunting everyone with the fact that he _did_ know more than them.

Killer shrugged and turned his attention back to their men. The reaction was disappointing, though Kid supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. Killer wasn't one to rise to that kind of bait.

"It is amazing to think that Hnoss bore a mortal daughter," Killer said.

Kid sat straight and gaped at him. "How did… Who… Nami swore me not to tell you! How the fuck did you find out? Were you eavesdropping?"

Killer's brow arched again. "I wasn't eavesdropping. You're just not as smart as you think you are."

Kid snarled in his face. "Say that again," he dared.

Killer wasn't intimidated in the least. He never was. "As soon as she said she wasn't related to Rán, all signs pointed to the Vanir. Certainly, Frigg is known for her foresight and knowing the fate of all things, but then only Odin and the Aesir, not Freyja, would be interested in her protection. Nami bears the fur of a great cat, is clad in gold and amber, and plenty of the men like to compare her smile to the most beautiful of treasures, if not the radiant sun. Supposedly Halle and Finn are composing songs for her in a competition to see whose poetry she might favor most. All the men have been bewitched by her beauty, charm, and kindness, and I'm sure they all plan to hand over a sizable portion of their treasures to her when we return to Drafn as some sort of blót, as though she were Freyja, herself."

"But… That doesn't mean her lineage came from Hnoss," Kid growled.

"No, but I suspected that was the most likely case. I've heard many tales of Freyja taking a human lover when she desired one, but none told of her bearing children with them. I merely made a reasonable assertion that she was born from Hnoss, and you confirmed it."

Kid gaped again. If Nami found out that Killer knew, she wouldn't just fine him another chest of gold. He was more than certain she would cut out his tongue, as promised.

"I won't say anything to her about this. She wishes it to remain a secret, understandably, and I'll respect that wish," Killer said. Kid promptly snapped his jaw shut to glare. "And I wouldn't want my favorite cousin to face her wrath should she hear you were talking about her secrets again."

Kid slumped over, grumbling under his breath. " _Favorite cousin_? I'm your only cousin, bastard."

Killer gave him a firm pat on the back. "Then you know how important you are to me. Her secret is safe with me… As is yours."

"My secret?" He scowled. Killer's expression was a carefully crafted mask to most, but Kid caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. He was laughing. "What are you teasing me about now?"

"Nothing." There was a twitch again, but Killer wasn't going to give anything away.

Kid turned away with a sneer. "I swear, the shit I put up with from you. You're lucky you're family."

"Love you, too," Killer snorted.

He ignored Killer's mockery and focused back on the men training. Axel had broken away from the others to sit with Nami and Kalifa. He grinned at something Nami said and then went to crouch in front of her. Kid glowered as he watched Nami climb onto Axel's back so he could carry her up the hill to Iceburg's hall. She was still turning his men into her serving boys, and they were all too happy to meet her every demand with stupid grins.

"Tsh, that woman," he grumbled

Killer chuckled, but said nothing. Kid had a feeling he was still being teased and turned to growl at the other man. Killer merely laughed again, grabbed his arm, and stood while hauling him up.

"You can take your jealousy out with a sword," he explained.

"What jealousy? I'm not jealous," he insisted, shrugging off his friend's hold. He still followed him down the hill. He had wanted the exercise, anyway. It would clear those pesky thoughts that kept him up all night. It had nothing to do with jealousy.

"Oi, Finn. Halle," he called to the men as he snatched a shield and blunt sword from Wire. "Get your asses over here. You're both taking me on."

Killer chuckled as the two men shared a wary look.

Whatever he was thinking, he was wrong. He just wanted a challenge. He absolutely wasn't jealous. Not even a little bit.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Kid made his way back to the hall. He was exhausted, but his mind was finally clear of distraction. Halle and Finn would be too busy rinsing dirt out of their mouths to do any singing that night after their defeat, and after Axel returned from the hall, Kid saw that he would be too tired and sore to carry himself up the hill for supper.

"Bring a bowl of water to my room," he ordered a servant on his way back to his quarters. He wanted to rinse some of the sweat off and comb out his hair before dinner. He could probably do with a bath, but that would take too long to prepare. He'd see to taking one before they left.

"Ah, Jarl Eustass… Lady Nami is-" the servant called after him, but he waved them away with a growl. He just wanted to change out of his tunic and rest, he didn't care what Nami was up to.

He walked into his room before anyone could stop him, and froze right inside the door. He probably should have listened to what the servant had to say.

"Kid!" Nami shrieked at him as she hastily wrapped herself in a linen towel. She had just stepped out of her bath when he walked in. Her wet skin glistened in the candlelight, her amber hair curled and dripped water onto the cloth. The towel clung to her curving hips and allowed him a peek of skin flushed pink from the heat of the bath.

Seeing her undress from behind had been enough torture for his thoughts. After seeing her whole body, in its full glory, there was no chance his mind would know peace again. All he could think about was crossing the room as quickly as he could to rip away her towel and toss her in bed to touch her and taste her and hear what kind of sultry sounds she might make for him. He wanted to wrap his lips around the pulse in her neck, pluck and play with her nipples until she cried out. He wanted to know if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. He wanted to sink into her warmth, and…

A bar of soap smacked between his eyes and snapped him from more depraved thoughts.

"Wipe that lecherous look off your face and get out," Nami yelled.

"It's my room," he shouted back. "What the hell are you doing bathing in my room?"

"I'm staying with you until we leave," she snapped back. "Why wouldn't I bathe in here?"

Nami turned to a table set near the wooden tub. His eyes cast down as she grabbed a pitcher and poured herself a cup of ale. He bit his cheek to restrain a groan as shadows danced over her towel and teased his imagination with the body hidden beneath.

"You could still use that woman's," he grumbled. He couldn't say if he wanted her bathing anywhere else, not when he was given the chance to catch more than a peek. In fact, she was more than welcome to use his quarters as a bathhouse and stroll around naked. Barring she let him stay to watch.

"Kalifa needed a bath, too," Nami explained. "And I told the servants to stop you from walking in here."

He grunted, his attention glued to thighs that he wished weren't hidden from his gaze. He probably should have listened to the servant, but then he wouldn't be able to drink in the sight of Nami's wet and flushed skin.

A cup flew into his head, startling him. He shook away his wayward thoughts and forced himself to focus on Nami's scowl.

"It's not like I haven't seen you in only a towel before," he reminded with a snarl as he rubbed his sore forehead. The cup stung a lot more than the soap when it smacked into him.

"Five chests of gold," she said, pointing at him in warning. "And I want enough silk to make two new dresses."

"Demanding, greedy witch," he growled under his breath. She made a step toward him with a fist raised as though ready to punch him. He didn't flinch. He blinked, but he would swear that he didn't flinch if asked. "Alright. You're going to keep me in debt to you for the rest of my life at this rate."

Her fist lowered and the tension in her shoulders relaxed. Her mood turned somber for a heartbeat, her sadness gone in a blink of an eye. But he saw it, and he knew what thoughts had come to mind.

"You're not allowed to die until you've paid me, then," she said quietly, her eyes casting away from him. She clutched her towel to her and made her way to her chest of clothes. The servants must have brought it from Kalifa's for her. She crouched down and dug through her things with a scowl. "If you want to clean up, go ahead. The water's still warm."

"Thought you wanted me out?" he asked.

Nami's jaw ticked slightly, her shoulders tensed. "Just don't peek again."

He chuckled. "And what's to stop you from peeking at me, then?"

She snorted a laugh, her frame once more relaxing as she glanced at him. Mischief sparked in her eye and her lips curled in a teasing smile. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."

His brows furrowed in confusion. She laughed again.

"Two weeks ago, you and the men got drunk after supper and decided to go for a swim in the river. You all stripped down to your underclothes in the middle of the hall and then raced through the village to the water." She laughed again as his jaw dropped. He forgot about that night. "And when you returned, you had somehow lost what little clothing you had when you left. I don't think I've ever seen Gunda blush so many shades of pink."

"Oh," he grunted.

She stood with a new dress in hand. "And that's still not the first time I've seen a man naked."

That surprised him. He wasn't sure he liked what she might be implying with that comment. "What?"

"There was an assembly and sacrifice at a temple Arlong took me to a few years ago. I walked into the wrong tent and found a number of his men enjoying themselves with two of the women they met there," she explained.

His brows shut up. "And did you..."

He trailed off as her head shot up to gape at him. "What? No!" She paused to shudder with obvious revolt. He didn't know why that reaction pleased him, but he didn't dare think on that. "Like I'd ever let those monsters touch me." She shuddered again.

He hadn't realized how tense he had been until he felt it melt out of his shoulders. He stifled his relieved sigh as he idly began to undo his belt, intent on taking the chance at a bath while it was there. Nami moved to the bed to lay out her dress and grabbed her comb before sitting. As she drew her hair over her shoulder, he spotted a bruise marring her creamy skin and scowled at it.

"So have you ever let a man touch you?" he asked as he went to sit beside her to appraise the injury. She winced as his fingers traced the tender purple-red flesh, and his ire deepened. That woman had been too rough.

"Are you asking if I've ever had sex?" she asked flatly, drawing away from his touch. He looked up to see her glowering at him. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Curious." He shrugged and went back to examining her injuries. There was a scrap on her ear that pulled another wince from her as he brushed her hair away. "Figure I ought to know if any men were driven mad after a night in your bed since they might come search for you like all those fathers did to your clan's mothers," he reasoned. It was far from why he was asking, but it was the best reason he could come up with, and the one most likely to get an answer.

Nami sighed. "You have nothing to worry about there," she said. "Arlong made it perfectly clear what the consequences would be if I ever took a lover."

"What consequences would those be?" Kid asked lowly. His fingers grazed over her shoulder, down to her arm where he found another small bruise near her elbow. She didn't wince again, much to his relief. Every show of tenderness made him want to lean in and brush his lips over her sores in the hopes it would take the pain away.

"He said that he would carve out the eyes of any man who dared look at me. He would cut off their hands if they touched me." Her words were spoken at a hush, beckoning him to lean in closer. Her bath made her smell even sweeter, her clean skin softer. He couldn't find fault in her giant's punishment. He would do the same to anyone else he found in the very position he was in with Nami, even if it was by her choice. "And if he ever caught them in bed with me, he would tear their manhood off, root and stem, with his bare hands, then shove it in their mouth to eat before chopping their head off. And of course, if I had gone to the man willingly, he would make me watch the whole execution so I might think twice before doing it again."

Kid's gaze snapped up from her shoulder. To make her watch a lover's execution, even he felt that was too harsh.

"I knew he wasn't bluffing when he cut out the tongue of a man in another village who had talked of wanting to bed me, before cutting out his eyes," she finished. "So, naturally, I had decided to abstain."

"Now that you're free of Arlong, though, do you still have no intentions of being with a man?" he asked, uncertain why his curiosity wouldn't wane on the subject. He could probably still reason that it had to do with the curse of madness that apparently afflicted men, but as his eyes cast down to the swell of her breasts, he knew that wasn't the _only_ reason he wanted to know.

Nami turned away from him, forcing his gaze away from her breasts as she hid them from his view. He looked up to the side of her face he could see as she idly began to comb her hair. Her expression was carefully blank, her eyes distant.

"I haven't given that any thought," she said quietly, "since I'm not really free of him yet."

He glanced at her tattoo and the scar cutting through it. She was right. She wasn't free of him, not until that mark was gone and Arlong's head was on a pike. Which meant whatever thoughts and desires he might have for her were wasted. If he was meant to die at Arlong's hands, then he was never meant to have her as anything more than a friend.

He stood abruptly and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? I thought you were going to take a bath?" Nami asked, startled by his sudden leave.

"I'll use the men's," he answered flatly as he stomped out of the room.

He didn't wait for her to say anything else, shoved by the servant on the way to his room with the bowl of water he requested, and stormed out of the hall. He walked on down the hill, ignored his men as they greeted him, passed by the bathhouse his men were to use for their stay. He kept walking until he was knee deep in the frigid sea.

He sat down in the water and stifled a groan as cold bit into his arousal. He breathed in deep, shut his eyes, and forced his mind to will away every lewd image of Nami that plagued his mind since the night before. He had been able to ignore her beauty for the past month; it shouldn't make any difference that she was descended from a goddess renowned for her enchanting looks. She was still Nami. She was still the woman he swore to protect and to free from a giant wishing to claim her.

She was just another woman, like any of the others. It didn't matter that she showed him more warmth than any other woman he had known. That was the kindness of a friend, nothing more.

Water splashed behind him, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Kid?" Killer prompted. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing for battle," he lied.

Killer snorted. "Are you talking about the battle in England, or the battle in your pants?"

Kid opened an eye to glare. Killer smiled back where he crouched beside him in the water, endlessly amused by the scene. Kid shut his eye again with a sigh. "She was in the bath," he mumbled.

"And how much did that cost you?"

"Another chest of gold and some silk."

Killer gave his back a solid pat and stood. "I do not envy your suffering."

His friend sloshed through the water on his way back to shore. Kid scowled as a thought came to him.

"Killer," he called, his voice hard enough to make the man pause. Kid didn't turn to look at him. "I trust you to do what needs to be done if Nami's ever in danger."

"Kid?"

"No matter who it is," he said firmly. "If he's touched with madness, you cut off his head before he can lay a hand on her. Understood?"

Killer remained silent. He knew what Kid meant. Even if the man was a brother to them, even if he was their Jarl, Nami's well-being came first.

Kid knew he couldn't have her, but if he couldn't control his own desires, even he didn't know what he might do.

"Understood," Killer said, tone grave, and headed off to relay that message to the rest of his men.

It would serve as a good warning to the others. For if Kid couldn't have her, then no one could.

* * *

 _Hedeby_

The Earl trotted through the main gates with a handful of men and a dead boar, the fruits of a week-long hunt that would feed them well that night. The Earl had already claimed the best cuts for their own table while their stomach growled, eager for the feast to begin.

"Earl," a man called ahead of them, waving at them. "You have a visitor."

The Earl scowled beneath the heavy hood of their cloak, but nodded before kicking their horse to cantor on ahead. The man jogged after to take the reins of the horse once they reached the hall, holding the animal still while they dismounted.

"Who are they?" the Earl asked, eyeing a stranger who sat on a bench outside the hall warily.

"His name is Chew. He says he comes from Svealand at the behest of Jarl Arlong," the man explained.

The Earl's brows furrowed, trying to place the name. So many Jarls and Earls and Kings came through Hedeby, it was hard to keep track of all of them. Only a few they bothered to remember, those with greater potential, so this Jarl likely meant little to them.

"I believe the village was Tingstad. Small, but well positioned on the Kattegat. The previous Jarl, Genzo, made regular visits, intended to see his region grow into another trade settlement, but this new Jarl seized control eight years ago and squandered whatever progress Genzo made," their man further explained.

The Earl had never met this Genzo, either, but that was before their time. It had hardly been three years since they took control from the previous Earl of Hedeby.

"Perhaps they mean to fix that," the Earl mused and headed toward the hall. They waved for the man from Svealand to follow as they entered, and shrugged off their cloak to toss to a servant. "Get him some ale. He's a guest," they ordered. "And see that the boar we returned with cooks quickly. I'm hungry."

"Of course, Earl," the servant said, bowing her head before running off to do as told.

The Earl went to the front of the main room and settled into their empty chair atop the dais. The man called Chew stood before the fire at the center of the hall, warming his hands as he waited for the Earl to get comfortable. It didn't take long before the guest had his ale, as did the Earl, along with a plate of salted fish to enjoy as they spoke.

"What brings you to my home?" the Earl asked between bites of fish.

"I come on behalf of my Jarl, in search of a woman," Chew explained as he took a seat.

"Will any woman do, or are you searching for one in particular?" The Earl's brow rose. They had no shortage of men seeking to marry into their house, and if this was another case, he would be kicked out on his ass just as all the others were.

"One in particular," he began to answer. "A woman of eighteen with amber colored hair."

The Earl sat back in their chair and propped a chin on their hand. "I've seen a few women with amber hair in my lifetime, but none recently." They turned to the men left to watch the hall while they hunted. "Have you seen any woman like this while I was gone?"

"No, Earl," they all answered, and the Earl turned to Chew, shrugging.

"It seems you have looked in the wrong place."

Chew nodded, seemingly unaffected by the news. "I'm not surprised. Jarl Arlong felt that she went north."

The Earl glowered at that. "Then why come here?"

"Her sister said she was going to Normandy. A lie, but it did no harm to see if she took a route through Hedeby. He also sent me in search of a Frankish merchant we're friendly with to see if he can aid us. Perhaps you've seen him recently? He's called Nezumi."

The Earl's frown deepened. That untrustworthy, greedy, rat-faced bastard was an annoyance, and far from a typical merchant. He was more likely to sell _secrets_ to anyone with the right amount of gold. Rumors abounded that he was actually a nobleman of some lower Frankish house, one that held little loyalty to their king, and merely played the part of merchant to more easily learn the secrets he sells.

"I believe he stayed in Paris over the winter," the Earl said, plucking up another piece of fish. "He will likely pay Hedeby a visit in the coming weeks. You are welcome to wait. I can see to a bed in our barn for you."

"I have no need for your hospitality," he said, tone gruff. "My crew and I have a camp on the western shore of the bay."

"Have it your way." The Earl shrugged. "So what is so important about this woman that you would go to these lengths in search of her?"

Chew's lips pursed into a tight frown, his eyes turned wary and mistrusting.

"I'm merely curious. If she's so valuable, I can see that my people keep an eye out for you, in case she did venture this way."

Chew's frown tightened even more. After a moment, he sagged forward with a sigh.

"She is my Jarl's most treasured ward," Chew said. "She's been in his household since the age of ten, but as she's gotten older, they've had a number of disagreements that drove her to run off in some rebellious fit. She usually returns after a few days, no more than a week or two at the longest. This time she's been gone for over a month and Jarl Arlong is worried. He's endlessly fond of her, so her extended absence is causing him a great deal of turmoil."

"If he cares so much of her, why is he not here himself? Did he go north to search there?" the Earl asked.

"He remains in Tingstad, in case she returns. He wants to be the first to greet her should she return safely on her own," Chew explained.

The Earl frowned, uncertain how much to believe of this tale. If the girl was of such importance, her Jarl should have gone to search himself, and not waited for so long to send anyone at all. And then there was the matter of these _disagreements_ , as he called them. What could have happened to send a girl running from her home, apparently more than once, and this time not return?

"Since it's been over a month, I wouldn't be surprised if this girl with amber hair was dead. Or with some disgusting cretin who got his hands on her. Or perhaps she has a lover elsewhere she's with? She may even be married already. Your search seems futile," the Earl said dismissively.

"It may be futile, but Arlong still wants her found. If she married, without his consent, he will see that the matter is rectified. And any man who attempts to take her by force will be dealt with harshly," Chew growled. "She belongs to Arlong and no one else. He will not forgive anyone who means to take her from him."

The Earl nodded. Now they had an understanding of the situation. This woman was no mere ward, she was this Arlong's prized possession, likely little better than a captive.

They turned to the man who greeted them upon their return, waving him in close to speak at a hush. "You said this village - Tingstad - once belonged to a man named Genzo who visited us in the past. Did he by any chance come with a little girl matching this description?"

Their man frowned in thought. Chew said the girl had been with them since the age of ten. Eight years was a long time to remember. After a moment their man nodded and the Earl waved them away.

"If I see this woman within my territory, I will take her into my house and send word to your Jarl of her safety," the Earl said. They kept whether they would hand the girl back to this Jarl to themselves. That depended on what sent her running in the first place. Arlong might have a right to take his hostage back, but the Earl felt little sympathy for the story Chew concocted of their relationship. From what she could tell, she was far better off in Hedeby, or wherever else she ended up, barring it wasn't half dead in a river or turned into some sick man's plaything. "And if Nezumi arrives in the next week, as I suspect him to, I will send word to your camp. If you choose to leave before then, I'll tell him your Jarl was asking for him and send him off to Tingstad."

They doubted the rat would be any more help to them, but if it was a rat Arlong wanted, then a rat he would get.

"Thank you," Chew said with a subtle nod. Half-hearted gratitude, but it was better than nothing.

The Earl waved him off dismissively, giving him leave to go as soon as he finished his ale. Once their guest had seen himself out, the Earl sank back in their chair to glower at the open door. Something didn't sit well with them. There was an uneasy roiling in their stomach.

One month? They waited over a whole month before sending out a search party? How frequent were these escapes that they could be so nonchalant about the affair? And what exactly did Jarl Arlong have planned for the poor girl? She obviously wanted nothing to do with him. Understandable if he seized control from her previous Jarl.

After a while, the Earl turned to their man. "Tell me everything you know about Tingstad and these people who come from there," they demanded. "And where the fuck is my boar? I'm hungry."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So much is happening, ehehehe. I had to give Nami and Kalifa a proper fight in this chapter. As I said, I really loathe how their fight was handled in canon, so I fixed it a bit in this chapter._

 _As for the Earl in Hedeby - I am trying to keep their identity a secret until the next time they appear, but I put plenty of hints to who this character is. The last line should honestly be a dead giveaway. I will say, this is a captain, and there is one captain I headcanon as German. Hedeby, while during this time period resides in Danish territory, now falls within Germany. The Earl is actually going to be relatively important later on in my 'Enel arc', and they will make an appearance in my final 'Normandy arc'. And I have connected them to a figure in Norse mythology that works so damn well. I am proud of myself any time I find a figure to connect to a character._

 _For anyone wondering the sequence of arcs, especially those wanting more Arlong drama, I have this fic now broken up into four major arcs. We're currently nearing the end of the first arc (I'll dub it the 'Raiding arc'). Next will be the Enel arc, which will have a lot of impact on the following arc, which is the Arlong arc. The final arc is the Normandy arc where I actually address Nami's paternal lineage and go into the circumstance behind her biological mother's death. So, please have patience for the Arlong drama to unfold. I am building up to that. A lot of things happen in the next arc that will either majorly impact the Arlong arc, or will just barely begin to hint at things for the Normandy arc. This current Raiding arc is to develop Kid and Nami's relationship since the bond they're forming now is obviously going to be the most important aspect of this fic and influences everything that's to come._

 _I'm actually really wanting to just work on this fic non-stop right now because I want to get to the Enel arc, because seriously, so much shit happens in that arc. Like... it gets bloody and brutal. Best thing about this AU - I get to write Kid as the extremely violent man that he is. He might not seem it right now, but he's with his friends and family, the people he will never purposefully harm without just cause, the people he would protect even if it cost him his life. He's generally docile with the people he likes. Give him a solid enemy, and oh boy, he turns bloodthirsty. Enel and Arlong, too, of course. But Kid... oh, he's gonna do some pretty fucked up shit in the next arc. I can't wait. XD_

 _My goal is to have everyone screaming for one reason or another during the next arc._

 _So yeah, friendly reminder if you have problems with graphic violence and gore - there is going to be a lot of it in this fic._


	14. Chapter 14

_Warning: There is mild sexual content in this chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _A Shrouded Omen_

Nami couldn't understand what it was, but something had shifted between her and Kid over their last few days in Álasund. He was acting strangely after catching her just out of the bath. It wasn't the lecherous looks that spoke of wandering thoughts, thoughts that likely involved all the things he could do with her naked body. That she expected from him, or any man with an appreciation for women. Even if he didn't vie for her attention like the other men, didn't fall over himself attempting to impress her, she knew he was attracted to her. The stiff shaft pressed against her backside the night she told him about her family made that abundantly clear, though his tendency to touch her whenever he had the chance was what gave her a clue long before that.

The desirous looks he cast her way had certainly increased, become deeper, more intense, but that wasn't the behavior that bothered her. For all the heat in his gaze, he had turned cold. She could probably find more warmth in a glacier compared to the way he had begun to treat her. He was quiet, spared her little better than a grunt here and there, actively avoided her throughout the day, except to watch her train with Gunda and Kalifa for a few minutes before vanishing again, and didn't come to his room until she had already fallen asleep.

She had noticed the change immediately after he returned from his bath. He had taken longer than she expected and trudged into the hall well into supper. He didn't look at her as he hunkered at a table with Killer and Franky to eat, then disappeared as soon as he was done. When he returned to his quarters that night, she was just dozing off as he slipped into bed behind her. She expected him to wind himself around her like he tended to do, but instead he rolled his back to her and kept as much distance between their bodies as he could. She almost thought to check for a sword between them, just as Sigurd had done with Brynhildr to prove he never took her chastity while sharing a bed.

She asked him if something was wrong that night. He just grumbled an excuse about battle and England and a lot on his mind, and then began to snore so suddenly she knew it was fake. She would have smacked him for his attitude, but she supposed it was just a mood and it would pass. She was even more certain of that when she woke the next morning trapped in his hold as she normally would be. She was even greeted with a stiff cock pressed against the small of her back that she couldn't help but roll her eyes at.

Then she began the morning routine of escaping his embrace. She grazed his length despite the care she took to avoid rousing him. He moaned at the errant touch and rolled his hips into her. His body stiffened in surprise as he woke enough to realize what he was doing and flew to the other side of the bed as though burned. He laid on his stomach, his face buried in a pillow that he clung to as if his life depended on it, and muttered an apology she barely heard. His back was tense, every hard ridge of muscle coiled and ready to snap. She decided it was best to leave him alone, let him catch a breath and relax, so got out of bed and dressed without a word. She didn't even say anything when she glanced back and caught him peeking through a veil of dark red hair. He wore a scowl that said he wasn't enjoying the view as much as he might have the other night, so she left him to suffer whatever thoughts plagued him and hoped he would feel better later.

He didn't speak a single word to her until that night when she asked him what he spent his day doing. He grunted something about checking Iceburg's ships with his men, turned his back to her, and once again pretended to go to sleep. His coldness made her want to strangle him, punch him, pick a fight until he was too overwhelmed with anger to ignore her and maybe let slip what had him so bothered. But she knew it wouldn't do either of them any good, and a part of her was afraid she already knew what was amiss with him.

She reasoned the distance might be a good thing. They had been growing too close, and Nami didn't know how much longer he would be in her life. Better not to get overly attached, and it was especially good not to let his attraction deepen any more than it had. There was no telling what could come of that. So, she let him be cold and surly to her, and woke up every morning with him latched onto her until he nearly fell out of bed in his attempt to reestablish the distance they needed.

She was especially irritated with his attitude after their last night in Álasund. At least she swore it was only his coldness that bothered her.

Iceburg had thrown a grand feast for all the crews and the village to celebrate what was sure to be a profitable journey. The hall thrummed with energy and excitement, everyone drank and ate and flirted. Nami sat with Kalifa and Paulie, teasing the man as she had become wont to do. It was so easy to make him blush. But then she was distracted by the sight of Kid slipping out of the hall with a young blonde woman in tow. She glowered at them as Paulie muttered some comment about that woman being a favorite among some of the village men, so much so, she made Nami look like a sweet, demure, and conservative woman. Kalifa smacked him hard upside the head and hissed at him to be polite, but Nami ignored their antics as she felt a pang in her chest she had never known before.

It was odd. She couldn't be jealous. She was just annoyed with how much he had been ignoring her, and now he was running off to be in another woman's bed, leaving her to the mercy of her visions. That had to be it. She was just bothered at the thought of him shirking his duties to her. She didn't care what he did with some random woman. It was none of her business.

Killer caught her eye as she tried to ignore her darkening mood. He glanced to the door, then back to her. He scowled, sighed, and then stood to head outside. She had no idea what he might be up to, ignored the thought he might go to interfere with Kid's tryst, and forced herself to focus on Paulie who had begun bickering with Lucci about the blond's insensitivity. Lucci had little room to talk. He was cold and brusque with everyone, but at least he could be polite when he needed to be.

That night Nami went to bed with a foul temper and struggled to go to sleep. She didn't expect Kid to return to his quarters until the morning, so she was surprised to hear him enter and shuffle around in the dark. She feigned sleep as he slipped under the blankets, carefully kept her back to him. She was tense and ready to smack him, but she had no right to be upset. And at least he hadn't abandoned her like she thought he would.

He tossed and turned for a minute, huffed and sighed and settled behind her with a groan. She could feel the heat of his body as he inched closer, and tensed even more at the brush of his hand on her back. She idly wondered if his release with the woman had eased the stress he felt being around her the last few days, made it easier for them to go back to their close friendship. She thought that might not have been such a bad thing, especially since she missed his companionship, something she never imagined could happen. Talking with him could be fun. His stories often amused her, or shed light on who he was. Sometimes he could even be enlightening, helping her as she tried to adjust to this new world filled with magic and foresight. He could infuriate her at times, but their arguments fizzled easily enough, and by the end of it they could be playfully teasing each other with no hurt feelings.

But then she felt his hard shaft tease her backside and the fury she had buried since supper returned. How could he still be aroused after running off with that damn woman? Was he only grudgingly with her because Killer made him return? He moaned as he nestled closer, but the sound was strangled in his throat the moment she slammed her elbow into his gut. He drew away with a pained groan. She turned over and smacked him as hard as she could to make him retreat even more. She hissed a quiet _don't touch me_ , and rolled away from him again, moving to the very edge of the bed.

His responding groan sounded disappointed, and after a few minutes he shifted closer to her again. She prepared to strike him if he tried anything, but he only leaned his head against the back of hers and didn't touch her further. His lack of argument, even if he stubbornly remained close, stopped her from shoving him away. He was still in a mood if he didn't yell at her for hitting him, and obliged her demand, so she let it go.

By the morning he was attached to her, anyway, and she woke to find him staring at her with a thoughtful frown rather than flying out of bed after releasing her.

When they loaded their ships to set off, Kid took charge as he had before and barked commands at everyone to move. Except for Nami. He did boss her around, but it was quiet and gruff, and she had a feeling he was sulking. She hadn't been talkative that morning, had proceeded to ignore him as much as he had ignored her the last few days. Apparently, he didn't like that, but wasn't about to say anything on the matter. She was at least ready to go when he wanted her to be, dressed in trousers, tunic, her leather armor and guards, and her hair braided quickly with Kalifa's help. So long as their moods weren't slowing things down, neither of them had reason to address the chilly divide between them.

Once out at sea, they spoke when they needed to, but continued their silence. Kid's men had been stepping around them carefully for days, and that didn't change over the days at sea. Nami ignored the uncomfortable glances from the men. Luckily none of them were stupid enough to say anything about the tense atmosphere between them. There was no reason to. They weren't bickering or doing anything to hinder their voyage, they were still working together to maintain their route and keep the ship afloat. They could deal with the awkwardness for a few days more.

It took them four days to reach the region Kid wished to raid in. They were slowed by a storm on the second day and had to wait for all their ships to rejoin after they scattered, but otherwise conditions had been ideal. They skirted the coast of the island down to the Northumbrian lands. There were Danish settlements to the northernmost region of the island, as well as some within the central region, which meant fewer places that were ideal for raiding, but Kid knew of villages with wealth and no kinship to the Norse that they could still strike.

It was when they landed, early in the morning, that their standoff began to break.

The coast was covered in a thick fog that sent a shiver down Nami's spine as she recalled her dream. After disembarking, she stood on the shore to stare inland at a world she didn't know and couldn't quite see behind the grey clouds. She tried to listen for the galloping horses, the hollowing dogs, but all she could hear was the waves crashing against the rocks to the north of their landing spot and the calls of the men as they unloaded the ships and prepared to find a place to camp. Unease crept through her until she felt a firm hand rest on her shoulder, driving away the anxiety with just one touch. She released a breath and looked up to see Kid staring at her, worry hidden behind his scowl.

They still didn't speak, but she nodded to let him know she would be alright, and he left her after giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. The gap was still there between them, but it wasn't so cold with the quiet reminder that he was there to support her, to fight for her, to protect her.

Between Kid, Franky, and Iceburg's men, they had six ships filled with men and women ready to fight – over three-hundred warriors in all. Together they headed inland as the fog began to burn away, revealing rich grasslands and forests not far from the beach, and took to building a camp within a thinly wooded area. Soon the coast and clearing rang with the sound of axes striking down trees and sharpening stakes for their tents and the defensive perimeter Kid ordered his men to build. By the early afternoon, they had shelter and protection, and even some meat to share after Lucci took a party out to hunt and returned with a deer and two rabbits.

Nami and the other women set to work on the meal while Kid and the leaders circled around a fire beneath an open canopy to discuss their strategy. They agreed to send out scouts that afternoon, with Wire taking some men to the west, Kaku leading his men to the south, and Zambai taking some of Franky's men to the north. They were to search for villages or farms, gather supplies, horses, carts, whatever they could find, and return in the morning with any information on the foes they might meet in battle.

The scouts left after a quick meal, and Nami decided to settle inside the tent she claimed with the other women. She wanted to sharpen her axe and try to shake her lingering worries. She felt more confident about her ability to fight, but she couldn't help fearing the worst would come. The shieldmaidens that joined them had all reassured her that she would be well protected, and Kalifa said she trusted Nami's skills in battle enough not to be overly worried about the camp's safety. She tried to take their reassurances to heart, but the anxiety coiling in her gut made it difficult.

She also sought the privacy of their tents to escape Kid's gaze. When he didn't have battle tactics to focus on with the men, he had taken to watching her move around the camp. He didn't even try to pretend that he wasn't staring at her. She would feel the weight of his gaze on her back and turned to see him sitting at the fire with his eyes locked on her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, his eyes dark and guarded, his scowl unwavering. It sent a shiver down her spine and made her want to flee from the camp, but she forced herself to ignore him and continue with her work until she had her chance to escape him.

She didn't think he would try to speak with her any time soon. He might have eased her anxiety when they reached England with one comforting gesture, but he hadn't tried to talk to her. He kept his distance, even if he wasn't as cold as he had been.

To her surprise, he grabbed her by the arm before she could hide in her tent and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I didn't do anything with her," he said.

She turned to him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Kid huffed as he released her and stepped back. "You've been angry with me since the last night we were in Álasund," he said, as though that explained everything.

She furrowed her brows in thought. Was he talking about the woman he slipped out with? Why would he even bother talking to her about it? And now of all times?

He crossed his arms over his chest with an annoyed growl. "I'm saying I didn't do anything with that woman, so you don't have anything to be mad about."

"Her name is Birgit. At least have the decency to use her name," Kalifa said as she passed by them to go into their tent. She glared at Kid. "And a woman would be a fool to believe that lie."

Kid snarled at her. "I didn't ask for your opinion, woman. Stay out of this."

Kalifa turned her nose up at him and continued into the tent, leaving them to talk. Nami had to agree with her, though. There was no way she could believe Kid did nothing, even if it was none of her business. When Kid looked at her again, she leveled an icy stare on him.

"I couldn't care less about what you did with who," she insisted. "You can sleep with every man and woman here if you want to. You're a free man. It's none of my business how you spend your time."

"Then why the fuck did you hit me?" he growled. "Don't lie. I know you were mad."

"That wasn't what I was angry about, Kid. You've treated me with nothing more than cold disdain for days."

"I haven't treated you with disdain," he argued.

"You've hardly spoken to me, avoided me as much as you could, and I assumed you went off with that woman so you didn't have to be anywhere near me that night. How would you feel if I treated you that way?" She crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring his closed off stance. Most of what she said was the truth. She refused to admit to any sense of jealousy. Those feelings were completely unreasonable, anyway. She cared for Kid and appreciated his friendship, she had just been lonely and felt like a burden he didn't want around anymore. That was all that had been bothering her. "And Kalifa is right – I don't believe you."

Kid rolled his eyes and tilted his head back as he took a deep breath. "I swear I didn't do anything with her." She arched her brow when he looked back down at her, and he sighed. "I _didn't_ … Not for a lack of trying," he said, trailing off to mutter the last part.

She shut her eyes, wishing they weren't having this pointless conversation. "As I said, Kid, you can do whatever you want, with whoever you want. It's none of my business. You don't have to make excuses for your behavior. I know you've been on edge, and I can understand the reason." She gestured at his groin while hoping that her cheeks weren't too pink. This was not a conversation she ever imagined having with him. "I've woken up every morning with that reason stabbing me in the back. If anything, I was annoyed with you that night because _that_ apparently hadn't gone away after your time with her. I assumed you grudgingly came to bed because Killer went after you, and you weren't ready to leave her."

Kid groaned. "She wasn't the one I wanted to be with. I was just hoping she'd be enough, but…" He shrugged and looked away. "I let Killer take her instead. Stayed and watched hoping it might–"

"Please stop talking," she interrupted, holding her hand up to make him pause. Her face was burning up with a blush. "I don't need to know the specifics. I don't need to know _anything_. I told you, I don't care about any of that." His brow rose to say he didn't believe her. She glared back. "I _don't_. I'm not saying I wasn't upset with you, but it had nothing to do with that." He still didn't look to believe her. "I just don't like being avoided. Even if I can understand why you kept your distance, that doesn't make it any better. We're supposed to be friends, Kid. I'm supposed to be relying on you and trusting that you'll protect me, but the way you treated me made it hard to believe that you won't toss me away when the responsibility becomes too burdensome."

"I'm not going to toss you away, woman. I'm not that callous and irresponsible," he growled, and then sighed. "I just need to keep my head straight, not get distracted by…" He gestured between them, refusing to admit his attraction aloud. "I don't want your blood on my hands."

"What?" She frowned thoughtfully. "What do you mean by that?"

Kid hissed and stepped closer, leaning in to speak quietly. "The chieftain's curse. I don't want to take the risk that it'll affect me."

Realization dawned on her. He thought he would go mad just because he wanted her? She supposed it was good that he was being so careful, but plenty of men wanted her, and not one of them had gone insane. If she was worried about that, she wouldn't take so much pleasure toying with his men. So long as nothing happened between them, then he had nothing to worry over. He might suffer from his desires for a while, and it was probably good that he did what he could to channel those feelings elsewhere and take advantage of any willing women around him, but he didn't have to be a cold bastard to her.

"I've already told my men that if anything happens," Kid continued to say, "they need to put your life above anyone else's. Even if it's my head they have to take–"

She grabbed him by the collar of his armor, cutting him off as she tugged him down. He had nothing else to say after she gently pressed a kiss to his cheek and shoved him away. She smiled at him as he gaped in shock, his cheeks dusted with a subtle blush.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Kid," she chirped and spun away, waving over her shoulder. "I trust you, so don't avoid me so much."

Before he could come to his senses and stop her, she slipped into her tent. As soon as the flap closed behind her, she let her head fall back and blew out a long breath.

"You shouldn't be so forgiving of that man," Kalifa lectured from her bed. She sat with a sword in her lap, whetstone in hand as she paused in her efforts to sharpen the weapon. "Then again, I still haven't quite figured out your relationship with him."

Nami glared at her. "It's…" She frowned. Even she couldn't quite explain what they were to each other, not without going into the whole story of how she came to be in Kid's care. She didn't even want to touch on the complicated feelings brewing between them, the warmth and comfort they had come to share. It was too much for her. She would rather to keep everything simple. For her sanity and his. "We're friends. Nothing more." She headed over to her bed to set to work on her axe. "At least he finally spoke to me. Hopefully he'll feel better after he's killed some Saxons, then things can go back to normal."

She desperately hoped they would. Life in Drafn would become needlessly stressful if he continued to be moody with her. Perhaps it was a good thing she chose to remain with the women that night. It would give him the space he needed. And once they returned home, she would work harder to control her visions so she would have no need to use him as a crutch at night. His easy willingness to climb into bed with her, and her lack of refusal, was likely to blame for his attraction building so much. The closeness they found over the last week, as well as the peeks he caught of her as they shared his quarters, only worsened it so he couldn't shake his desires as easily as he should.

"For your sake, I hope you're right," Kalifa remarked. "But if he continues to be an ass to you, I'd be happy to knock some sense into him for you."

Nami laughed. "You just want an excuse to hit him."

Kalifa's smile was barely there, but Nami didn't miss the wicked, mischievous glint in her eye. She laughed harder at the silent admittance. Kid would be wise to watch his back whenever Kalifa was around.

* * *

Kid blinked in a stupor as he stared at the spot Nami had just been. He wasn't sure if she had just kissed his cheek, or if the pleasant tingle on his skin was merely imagined. He had imagined plenty of things she could do to him over the last week, though none of those dreams were so innocent and chaste. And if he wasn't deeply delusional, and she _had_ just kissed him, then he had no idea how he was supposed to keep his mind together after that.

One little kiss. A peck on the cheek. It was nothing like the thoughts he had of her in bed at night, dreams of feeling her hand caress his hard shaft, beckoning him to settle between her legs and take her entirely for himself. Yet that tiny kiss had just as much of an effect on his body. He wanted to toss her over his shoulder, cart her off into the woods, and fuck her like he had hoped to do with that woman… Brigyrd? Birta? Hulda? Whatever her name was, he had hoped to be rid of his lust just long enough to fight with a clear head, but he couldn't even feign genuine arousal without thinking of Nami. And as soon as he thought of Nami, his chest tightened with what he could only assume was guilt, tempering what lust he had for Ida. Or was it Ingeborg?

Killer found them down the hill as Aina knelt in front of him with his semi-hard cock in her mouth, and he stubbornly tried to forget ever meeting Nami in the first place. His friend gave him a reproachful glare that held a silent lecture, and once again Kid felt like shit for what he was attempting to do.

He could admit that he had been an ass to Nami as he tried to forcefully move on from his attraction to her, but he had no better idea of how to deal with the situation. There had been women in the past that he wanted but couldn't have. He always shrugged it off and moved on. One had stung his pride, but he had been fifteen, young and confused with all that was happening with the Jarl and his family, and the woman had been a slave, so it was hard to tell if her interest was genuine, or forced because of her position. It was only made worse when he found her in bed with the Jarl's sons who tormented him for days about it. She spread her legs for any man who asked it of her, Kid was nothing special, so he forced himself to forget her after she was found dead that winter, supposedly mauled to death by a pack of wolves, though Kid wasn't so naïve anymore. He knew those men had killed her, but by that point he had ceased to care.

Before Nami, he couldn't say if he had ever been so torn about his desires. He wanted her, and he had a feeling that if circumstances were different, he might be able to seduce her if he tried hard enough. But he couldn't have her, and the more he tried to control his feelings for her, the stronger they grew and fought at his sanity until he feared he might snap and take her by force. Sharing a bed with her had become akin to torture for him. He dreamed of sinking deep inside her and hearing her call his name in ecstasy, and then woke to find her in his arms and realized if he moved his hand up just a bit, he would have her breast in his palm, and had to force himself to release her before he acted on that impulse. His only relief was that he hadn't woken up to find himself thrusting into her.

His mind was relieved. His cock certainly wasn't.

After he pushed Lotte at Killer and told his friend to have her first if he wanted, he sat back and tried to find that same lust he carefully buried whenever he was around Nami. It was too bad he couldn't enjoy Sylvi. She was pretty enough, though her blonde hair didn't hold the same luster of amber and gold that Nami's did. And her green eyes didn't have the same warmth he found in Nami's brown eyes the night they sat on the beach talking, nor did they glimmer with mischief, or heat with fiery anger. Her creamy skin was soft enough, but she didn't smell as sweet as Nami and there were no freckles on her shoulder to trace with his tongue. Holding her in his arms felt hollow, as though she were merely a ghost. It was nothing like the inviting comfort that came just from having Nami lean against his side.

When watching his closest friend screw the woman against a tree did him no service, he gave up and trudged off to bed in a foul mood as his arousal returned with just one touch to Nami's back. That mood was only worsened when his attempts to hold her were met with simmering anger. That foreign feeling of guilt returned to twist painfully in his chest, and all he wanted to do was pull her tight against him and hope she forgave him for running off with Stina. Or was it Thoril? He was even prepared to promise Nami another chest of gold, but instead silently settled as close as she allowed and breathed in her sweet scent in the hopes all would be better in the morning.

It was worse in the morning. He hated when Nami ignored him, and she knew it, but he had nothing to say to fix the divide, not when he knew it was his fault she was so livid. He had been trying to keep his distance from her, anyway, so he decided it was better to let things remain as they were. Maybe if she continued to be angry with him, it would help his attraction fizzle out. It was a vain hope, but it was all he had until he couldn't take the chilly atmosphere between them any longer.

Once they reached England, he saw that she was scared, even if she tried to hide it from the others. She needed his strength and support in the face of her latest prophecy. There could be no divide between them that might make her doubt her own abilities, or distract him from his battles. Not when it could mean death for her. He had hoped that if he spoke with her, they'd at least be able to clear the air and set their focus on what was to come. The most he expected to get from her was maybe some sense of forgiveness to get his mind off the other night, and hopefully help her relax enough that she could fight without their conflict weighing her down.

Instead he got a gentle kiss that he wished hadn't been on the cheek, and had been longer and deeper and filled with sultry moans. He also got a reassurance of her trust in him, and told that he didn't have to be so distant. But he was too busy trying to wrap his head around one little kiss to even think about the rest.

He was utterly screwed. He wanted to curse and scream at Odin for bringing the damned, wretched woman to him in the first place. Tempting him with a woman he could easily say was more valuable than any piece of gold, and he couldn't even have her for himself. No wonder all those men went mad. He didn't even want to claim her for her magic as they did, and he swore his mind was set to unravel should he ever be gifted with another kiss.

When the urge to throttle _something_ became too overwhelming, Kid turned away from the tent and stormed through the camp. He found Killer talking to Heat near their own tent and shoved his way between the men.

"Come with me," he ordered as he wrapped his arm around his cousin's neck and hauled him along whether he wanted to come or not.

"Kid?" One word that asked plenty of questions without having to say more.

"I either need to fuck someone, or kill something, and since I can't do the former, we're gonna do the latter," he explained gruffly.

Killer sighed and shrugged out of Kid's hold. He followed him out of the camp, snagging two bows and a quiver of arrows on the way, knowing it was a waste of breath arguing about it. Tomorrow they'd be off to pillage the nearest village and hopefully his sated bloodlust will temper his other lusts. In the meantime, he'd see his men didn't go hungry any time soon.

* * *

Nami did her best to believe that things would be better between her and Kid after he spent some energy in battle. He returned from an unplanned hunt late at night with two birds, another rabbit, and a weasel dangling from one hand, and seemed calm enough. Then he tossed the meat at the women to prepare and stalked off to his tent without a word, apparently back in that surly mood of his that had annoyed her so much.

She let it go and focused on helping the other women before going to bed. It was too late to pick a fight with him and she would rather trust his mood would pass once he had control of himself again.

Their first night in England, Gunda insisted on staying awake to guard Nami as she slept, her decision remaining firm even as Nami tried to sway her to rest for whatever battles they may face the next day.

"Lady Nami, there may be a reason to battle tonight, and I will not be caught unaware," Gunda said stubbornly. Her head was high, her resolve too strong to break.

Nami relented with a sigh. "Then at least join us in the tent. I could use your company as I sleep."

That much was true, and her whole reason for having the shieldmaiden close by. She had always liked sharing a bed with someone. It brought her comfort she desperately needed. She shared a bed with Bellemere and Nojiko, and then only Nojiko, and now she regularly found herself with Kid's company, whether she had originally wanted it or not. She was too accustomed to feeling that weight and warmth of another human beside her, breathing softly with sleep, sheltering her in their arms, shielded from a world she feared.

"You will have Lady Kalifa and the other shieldmaidens with you. It is best if I stay outside in case–" Gunda paused when Nami's lip quivered pleadingly. It was her turn to give in with a sigh and nodded, waving for Nami to climb into her furs. "I will remain by your side until you fall asleep and check to see that you are well throughout the night." She sighed again when Nami grinned at her. "It's a blessing I am not a man. You would have me at your beck and call with that pout, just like all the others. I'm beginning to pity them."

"Are you saying I don't have you at my beck and call now?" Nami asked teasingly, her spirits high as she settled beneath her pelts. Gunda glowered at her, unamused. "I'll have to try harder to seduce you."

She laughed when Gunda's face seemed to catch fire. Apparently, it _was_ possible to make the woman blush harder than she had when Kid and his men ran wet and naked around the hall.

That night she went to sleep happy and safe with her shieldmaiden at her side. It was a true relief to have her there as her mind slipped into fog and filled with the cacophony of battle, the whinnies and grunts of horses as they galloped through the trees, the clash of metal and wood, the shouts and screams of warriors killing and dying. She woke in a cold sweat at Gunda's touch, the woman's eyes etched with worry. She brought her water and calmed her, glad the dream wasn't as detailed as the last. It would be an ill omen if she woke up in a fit of madness again. Nami managed to doze off as Gunda gently combed her fingers through her hair and hummed as a mother would for her child. She didn't leave her side again until dawn.

Come the morning, Nami found Gunda braving the terror that was an exhausted and freshly roused Kid. She crouched at his side by his tent's fire, ignoring his scowl as she whispered to him. Nami knew she was telling him about her vision the night before. His hard gaze landed on her just as he nodded to the shieldmaiden and waved her off. His frown deepened, questioning if she would be fine with just one look. He turned away when Nami forced a smile, and went back to splashing water on his face to help him fully wake.

The camp bustled with activity as the morning carried on. The warriors were fed, the scouts returned to tell their news of a large village to the southwest, as well as deliver the horses they stole from nearby farms. With their arrival, the men grew restless for battle and threw themselves into preparing. There wasn't much left to do but wait for Kid's orders. Franky and Lucci decided to leave first with their forces, while Kid took his time and spoke with Heat and Hróarr away from the others.

"Lady Nami," Halle called as he jogged toward her with Axel just behind him. They were both clad in thick leathers and mail. Halle had a sword dangling from his belt, and Axel had his two axes. Both eagerly looked forward to battle. She cocked her brow when she noticed Halle's sly grin. "I have a favor to ask you."

"A favor?" she asked, while Axel snorted behind him.

Her brow rose higher when Halle took her hand, his grin widening as he brought it up to his lips. "I would like to have the gods' fortune in battle, and I was hoping one kiss from their lovely seeress might bring me luck."

"A kiss?" She tried not to laugh. "I think you're trying a little too hard there, Halle. You can find fortune and glory without it." He kissed the back of her hand, anyway, and she held out her other one. "That will be five gold coins."

Halle laughed and took her other hand to kiss her palm. "I'll bring you twenty when I return."

The charmer was unfazed by her glower and looked ready to double his debt until a large, imposing shadow fell over them. Axel swallowed a laugh as Halle straightened his back and slowly turned to look up at his Jarl. There was no mistaking Kid's aura of barely contained rage and murderous intent. Halle dropped Nami's hand, jumped away, and bowed his head low, like a wolf submitting to his pack leader.

"Jarl Kid," Halle managed to stammer before spinning away and making a hasty retreat. Kid glared at his back as he fled, his eyes narrowing as his body tensed. He looked ready to give chase, and Nami once again hoped his pillaging would help him expend that energy without harming his own men.

Axel failed to contain another laugh, the sound turning into a strangled cough when it earned Kid's angry gaze. He carefully nodded to the Jarl, and then to Nami before muttering something about checking on Halle to see that he didn't piss himself and made his retreat.

Nami sighed as Kid once more glared at his own man's back. "Really, Kid?"

"What?" he growled at her. "They were warned."

"Warned about what?" she asked, though she suspected she already knew. When Kid moved closer and failed to answer, she knew she was right. He had warned them not to flirt with her or face his jealous wrath, though he likely didn't admit to the jealousy out loud. It was obvious enough without saying it.

"I've ordered Heat and Hróarr to send out scouts regularly to keep watch of the immediate area," Kid explained. "They'll alert the camp if they see anyone approach, so listen for their horns."

Nami nodded, unable to say anything in the face of Kid's stern frown. He was as worried as she was, but doing his best to take measures that might help set her at ease. It only served to remind her that they weren't safe there, that if her vision turned into reality, she would have to see battle, see her friends die so soon after meeting them. She feared their fate was inescapable, but they had no choice, they would have to face whatever came their way.

With a heavy sigh, Kid cupped her face with both hands, gripping her by the jaw to make her focus on him.

"Don't forget yourself," he said lowly. "You've worked hard to prove you can fight for yourself. You're not as weak as you think you are, you're not a coward. You got plenty of strength on your own." He gently prodded her forehead with two fingers. "Use what you got in here." He sighed and dropped his hand to press a hard fist against her breastbone. "And in here."

She swallowed thickly and nodded. Her hands tightened into fists when she felt a tremor of fear remain. She wouldn't run away, not this time. She was determined to prove him right.

Kid forced a smile and lightly patted her cheek. "That's my girl," he chuckled. "Just remember to move, and don't stop fighting, don't give up. And when I return, maybe I'll have something pretty and shiny to reward you with."

He laughed genuinely as her eyes lit up. She would fight if she was promised treasure in return. She wouldn't be afraid if gold was in her reach.

"Greedy witch," he mused with one last pat to her cheek. He reluctantly pulled away. "We'll see if I can at least pay off one of those chests you've fined me."

"I'll be waiting then," Nami said, smiling easily. She wasn't happy to see him go, but she at least felt confident that he would return. And she would be there to greet him after a successful raid.

He turned away grinning, some of the tension leaking out of his shoulders. "Let's go," he called to his men, waving for them to head out of camp. He cast one last look at her over his shoulder. His grin lessened, but didn't seem any less confident.

She waved her farewell to him and the others, and he turned back to take the lead of the last pack of warriors to leave the camp. She watched as they climbed the hill by their camp, disappearing into the trees and light mist that lingered from the morning's fog. When she could no longer see Kid's red hair and thick fur cloak, she felt her creeping fear return.

A shiver raced down her spine as she looked among the trees, peered into the thin fog. There were no horses or hounds, no army lurking around their camp. Their small force of shieldmaidens and the youngest and oldest men within their three parties were alone.

"Lady Nami, you have nothing to fear," Finn declared as he came to her side. He grinned as he took her hand and squeezed it before releasing her to chase after another warrior close in age to him that he had met in Álasund. As he jogged away, he turned to let her see his playful grin. "And tonight over supper, we want to hear some tales of Freyr and his elves."

She laughed at the request and waved him off. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to have some entertainment that night, and perhaps they could call upon Freyr to bring Kid and his men the wealth and bounty they sought. It would serve as a good distraction from her worries, too.

She began to turn toward the large canopy tent and smoldering fire everyone preferred to gather around. Movement among the trees gave her pause. A shadow moved beneath a tree. She squinted and stepped in the direction of the forest, hoping she might see the figure clearly if she went closer. An annoying buzz filled her ears, drowning out all the rest of the world. A fly bit at her cheek, but she hardly felt the prick. Her whole focus was on the woods as she walked toward the shadow of a strange man.

Someone grabbed her by the arm to stop her just as she reached the fence. She blinked and in that very moment the shadowy figure vanished into the mist.

"Lady Nami, you mustn't leave the defensive perimeter," Gunda said, tugging her away from the fence.

"Gunda?" Nami turned to her, confused and uneasy at the strange vision. "Did you see a man in the forest just now?"

The shieldmaiden frowned at her before casting her gaze beyond their camp to check the trees. "No, I see no one. Did you see one of the Englishmen? A soldier?" With her questioning, she turned to gesture at the other shieldmaidens hovering around her. "Sweep through the forest. We cannot have any enemies alerted to our camp," Gunda ordered, taking charge of the other women while Nami tried to understand what she saw. She was certain it wasn't a vision. It didn't feel like her dreams.

"I don't think it was a soldier," she interjected before the women could leave. "He was shrouded in dark robes… I think he might have been a monk."

"The scouts said nothing of a church," Gunda mused, once again frowning. If the scouts had seen a church, they would have spoken of it. The Christian churches always had the gold and riches they sought. "Are you certain it was a monk?"

Nami furrowed her brows. "I… I'm not sure. But I swear I saw a man there watching the camp before vanishing."

Gunda stood silently for a moment, thinking as she stared off at the trees. She came to a decision with a nod and once again waved at the shieldmaidens. "We'll still do a sweep of the woods. It is best not to take any risks. Jarl Eustass has entrusted us with the safety of the camp and Lady Nami, we'll see that there are no dangers lurking out there." She turned to Nami with a gentle smile. "Go sit by the fire with Lady Kalifa. It's a chilly morning, and you have yet to eat. We'll return once we've completed our search."

The shieldmaiden took her hand and squeezed, then released her to lead the other women in their sweep. Nami watched fifteen of the shieldmaidens head out into the forest, Gunda looking more confident than she had with the task at hand. She gestured for the women to break off into small groups and fan out over the area. Just as Kid and his men had, they disappeared into the trees, leaving Nami behind.

A hand landed on her shoulder to remind her that she wasn't alone, and she glanced up to see Heat towering over her. His expression was as stoic and unreadable as ever. He nodded toward the fire as his lips curled in a smile that was barely there.

"Let's see that you eat," he said, drawing her away from the fence. "And Jarl Kid thinks I might be able to give some insight into your visions, so I would like to hear of your newest dreams. If you're willing to speak of them again."

She was surprised to hear that Kid had thought about how his men could help her. Heat had already done so much for her when she was sick, and he was the only person she had met with any knowledge of magic. Maybe he could help guide her to some answers.

Nami smiled at him in thanks. "I can't see how it would hurt. Any help I can get to manage my dreams is welcomed."

His smile grew as he waved her toward the tents. She paused to glance over her shoulder at the woods one last time, hoping to see the shrouded figure again. All she saw were trees and shrubs and mist. Another shiver ran down her spine.

If the man boded ill will, then it was already too late.

* * *

Long brown and ivory robes spread around him as he knelt on the stone steps before the alter, fingering a string of red beads in quiet prayer. His bishop stood to the side, a gilded cross swaying from his hand as he observed the lord in his daily ritual. The whole of his household knelt on the floor behind him, their heads bowed in their own prayers, following their lord's pious example.

He had always been a devout man. His father once said they were born from the angels and that one day their Lord would take them into His Kingdom and gift them with the wings they lacked in their mortal realm. Those stories came every Sunday as he prayed with his family until his knees ached, and continued until they turned calloused and numb. They once inspired him to study with the church. He sought to be a monk, pledged to peaceful study of their scared texts. Those dreams diminished when his father died and war broke out. He had to take on the mantel of warrior and lord, not the vestments of the pious. He became another man, no longer the calm, kind, priestly man. He forgot mercy in the face of his enemies, fought with a furious savagery unrivaled among their people. He became the strongest in their lands, grew so large men spoke of giants when they met him, but he was no giant.

He was a monk within his heart. Albeit a mad one.

He heard the church doors open and shut behind him. Feet shuffled. A man whispered. He heard the gentle crinkle of parchment being passed and opened. He was nearly done with his prayers as he listened to someone approach him.

"Lord Urouge," his vassal whispered. "I have a message for you."

He hummed, but kept his eyes shut as he continued to finger his beads. His vassal waited patiently behind him. His people knew better than to interrupt his worship, no matter the urgency.

When he reached the end of his prayers of devotion and fealty, he made the sign of the cross and bowed his head toward the bishop in gratitude for the extra time he was gifted within the church. When he stood and finally turned to his vassal, he wore a wide grin.

"So what is this message," he prompted, his voice deep but filled with good humor. His eyes settled on a stranger standing just inside the door, shrouded in cloth and shadows. He didn't move and Urouge would have thought him a statue if he did not stand in the door's path. His dark cloak was made of simple wool, but it was the beaded rope and wooden cross hanging from his waist that stood out to the lord.

"This monk has come with a warning of heathen raiders," Urouge's vassal informed.

"How commendable of the monk," Urouge said, his grin spreading. The stranger did not leave the shadows, nor did he move, and Urouge narrowed his eyes on him. "May I ask the monk's name? I wish to tell our Lord of his devoted servant's benevolence in my next prayers."

The monk's shroud moved silently as he shook his head.

"My Lord," his vassal said, clearing his throat as he held out a rolled parchment. "He has taken a strict vow of silence, but wrote his greetings and message here."

Urouge hummed, carefully eyeing the monk and the message. With a chuckle, he took the parchment and opened it. "Far be it for me to interfere with such show of piety," he mused while scanning the message. "You call yourself Dumah?" He chuckled, once more glancing up at the monk. "As silent as the name, I see. If you lift your shroud, will I find you have a thousand eyes, too?"

He suspected there was a chortle in the monk's shrug, but no sound came from within the shadows. Urouge's attention went back to the words scrawled hastily in black ink.

"You say they landed on a beach two days east of here… So they have already been here for at least two days while you traveled to give me this message, and it will take another two days for me to reach them. You came far to deliver this warning. I know there are lords and knights closer," Urouge mused as he read. He frowned and glanced up at the monk. "You say a large army of over two hundred left toward the village to the southwest of their position. Why not warn them instead of me?" The monk shrugged and nodded his head forward, indicating he continue to read. Urouge eyed him suspiciously. "If that was the direction they took, I suppose it will do no harm to come to me. A knight resides in a village near there – Sir Cavendish." Urouge chuckled. "He will likely rejoice at the chance to defeat the heathen army and flaunt his greatness to the King when next he sees him. He's always desired to become a prince, and a great victory like that might win him the hand of one of the King's daughters. I'm certain he doesn't need my aid."

The monk nodded again, and Urouge returned to the rest of the message.

"You wish me to approach their camp?" he asked as he read, scrutinizing the writing closer. "They left behind an army of nearly fifty, half of them male warriors, young and old, and the other half… Shieldmaidens?" The monk made no sound, nor moved from his spot. Urouge sighed, reading on. "They left this force to defend one woman?" The monk nodded. "You wish for me to fetch this woman?" The monk nodded again. "For what purpose? Is she of notable birth?" The monk nodded. "Is she their queen?" This time a shake of the head. "Princess?" Another shake of the head. "A high ranked lady?" The monk remained still and Urouge glowered at him. "That is hardly worth much. Unless she is of importance to their chieftain and a useful hostage, it would be a waste to hunt her down. I would rather leave these heathens to Cavendish, including their women. Unless this woman is the Virgin Mother born again, I see no reason for you or us to have need of her."

The monk appeared to stiffen. Urouge felt annoyance radiate from the shadows as the monk's robes shifted. He watched the man finally step forward, his hands hidden within billowing sleeves. He moved silently through the church and came to a stop at one of the statues set to the side of the dais. His silence persisted, but his message was clear as he stared at the figure with lofty wings spread toward the heavens.

"An angel?" Urouge mused with a thoughtful hum.

The monk's head was tilted back, as though he were peering up at the soft features of the angel's expression, but his face was still shrouded by the shadows of his hood and Urouge sensed that the man's eyes were on him instead. The monk's obscured face and motives gnawed at his conscience. How could he trust a faceless man? A man who claimed the name of a fearsome angel that hearkened death and destruction. A man who brought news of heathens that would no doubt be the agents of their world's ruin. He felt no holiness in his silence, only deceit and trickery.

"Or perhaps she is a devil?" Urouge thought aloud, sauntering toward the silent monk to tower behind him. The man barely reached the middle of his chest. "A demoness. _Lilith_. She would be most welcome and elated to be consorting with murderous, thieving pagans." The monk remained perfectly still, his shoulders languid and relaxed beneath his thick robes. "And if she were a demon, why would you wish for me to fetch her? At least assuming you desire her alive. Perhaps you are not Dumah, but Samael, wishing to consort with this woman of Lilith yourself. Or maybe you are a demon, Asmodeus, and have come to bring her back to Hell."

The monk's head bowed and his shoulders shook with another soundless laugh.

Urouge decided he wouldn't get any straight answers from this man. If he was truly a monk, devoted to their Lord, then he would be wise to heed his warnings, anyway. And if he proved false, then Urouge would contend with that another time. At the very least he could trust that these heathens and the woman needed to be dealt with, especially if he was sent such a strange messenger.

He moved away from the monk with a laugh, sweeping one side of his robe over his shoulder as he slowly made his way to the door.

"Be she angel or demon, I cannot allow her to remain in the hands of a heathen army," Urouge decided with a grin and confident laugh. "I will bring back and judge what she is myself, and if you are proven false, I will send both of you demons to Hell myself."

His declaration finally earned a sound from the monk, the halting chuckle he had stifled so well throughout his interrogation. It was the laugh of a devil.

Urouge feared no demon, nor his tricks. The Mad Monk would face the heathens and banish them all to Hell where they belonged.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I was so thrilled when I realized I could use both Urouge and Cavendish in this arc, especially Urouge so I could tie in some Judeo-Christian mythology. And the mystery man wearing the robes of a monk is actually going to be a major presence throughout the fic, all the way to the end. I didn't intend to introduce him this early, but he made for a great catalyst to move Urouge's forces, so I couldn't resist. Obviously I tied him here to figures in Judeo-Christian angel/ demon mythology, but I don't want to explain why I picked the name "Dumah" here because I'm trying to keep his actual identity a secret for a while and I think that might give it away. A couple of you already correctly guessed who the Earl of Hedeby is (kudos to you), but this one I actually really want to keep you guys guessing up until the very end. It's so much more fun that way. I also gave hints to which figure in Norse mythos he will represent with what Nami experienced when she saw him, but again, I don't want to give that one away too soon since it might also spoil what his motivations and role in this fic will __be. All I can say is that I am so excited to be writing him into this fic, even if he's going to be shrouded in mystery for a while. Though, I won't be too surprised if I get some guesses on the mystery man, but I hope I can still keep you guys in the dark about most of it._

 _Now then, as for Kid being an asshole to poor Birgid the blonde and not remembering her name - in his defense... he really is an asshole and if the person doesn't make a big enough impression on him, he's not going to remember much about them and he's especially terrible with names in those instances. Also he's pining for Nami, and as I showed in 'Possession', he is really awful when he's pining for someone he doesn't think he can have, and in this case he has a whole curse and possible future demise standing between them, not stubborn guilt._

 _At least Nami's feeling some jealousy with him, though it is mostly a platonic jealousy. She hasn't quite gotten to the point of considering what other feelings are growing between them, and she would rather not think about those feelings because they confuse her._

 _And yes, I really am just throwing myself into this fic right now. I'm always happy when I writing these chapters and get myself really excited with each new development I think. I was honestly giggling like a damn idiot to myself yesterday (even while at work) because I came up with the whole Urouge bit there and was just so excited to write it. So yeah, this fic is personally rewarding for me to write, and it has a lot to do with what's going to happen in the next chapter. As I've warned, I'm letting go of my restraints and letting myself go into really dark and brutal plots._

 _So, extra warning here - the next chapter is going to be very violent, very graphic, and very dark. There will be blood. There will be gore. It will not be a happy chapter. Please prepare yourselves. :)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Battle With The White Knight_

Kid's body thrummed with excitement as he peered through the trees at the village they set their sights on. They had steadily moved southwest searching for a good battle. The first village they came upon was small and poor, easily swept through without a strong army to defend it, only a handful of young men that stayed behind to fight while the rest ran for safety. The pithy band of farmers was slaughtered within minutes, and Lucci suggested they let the rest flee as they wished. They weren't worth the effort of killing in his eyes, and Kid agreed. They were mostly women and children, not warriors to find glory battling against, and Kid had no desire to capture any as slaves.

With the village deserted, they took their time pillaging it. They gathered more horses, three of which Kid secured for his men so he could send messengers back to the camp and check on their safety. There wasn't much else of value beyond their livestock and grain, so they moved on to find better prey.

They marched for another day before finding the larger settlement before them, built with strong stone walls and heavy wooden gates to defend against attacks. From their vantage point above the valley it was situated in, they could clearly see a grand home built of masonry, and a church to one end. The church alone promised riches, but the Saxon home said a nobleman might reside there, which meant even more gold, as well as a better army to give their men a challenge.

"What are you thinking, Kid?" Killer asked beside him.

He didn't answer right away as he continued to survey the area. There were two gates into the village - one to the west, and one toward the south. The church was built furthest from the gates, protected by an inner wall that didn't look to hold the same defensive purpose as the wall surrounding the rest of the village. It didn't appear to be made from such thick stone bricks, and it lacked a barred gate, instead an archway invited all into the courtyard. Kid knew the church itself would likely bar its doors once they were signaled, but that wouldn't be much of a deterrent for them. The main wall of the village had towers at the corners and around the gates for sentries to keep watch, and he could assume archers would take position up high in their defense against invasion. Movement in front of the gates drew his attention to more soldiers greeting people as they came and went – traders, farmers, craftsmen, all with their wares to sell. This village would suit those either interested in a good fight, or those who only desired plunder.

Kid crept through the trees, Killer following close behind, and stopped to crouch beside Lucci. He gripped his sword and his eyes gleamed with the same excitement Kid felt. His long black hair was pulled back into a tight tail that bushed out in thick curls past his shoulders. Black and silver leather hung over his slender torso, belted at the waist where an extra dagger sat at his hip. The tension of his lips spoke of a smile threatening to break out, an expression Kid had never seen on Lucci.

The man undoubtedly anticipated a good battle. Kid had yet to see him draw his sword, but there was no question of the skills he possessed. While in Álasund, he had seen the scars on Lucci's bare back as he toiled away on one of their ships. Five thick round scars in a cross-like pattern that Lucci shrugged off when asked about them. He claimed to have never felt the injuries when he received them; he was heedless of pain. He might not have been a full-blooded Norseman, but he had the heart and form of a berserker. He didn't wear the pelt of a bear or wolf, instead black tattoos covered his shoulders and back – the spots of a great cat. They suited him more. He was more feline with his lithe form and dangerously calm demeanor, nothing like the heavily muscled, ill-tempered brute that Kid was.

"I take it you saw their soldiers?" Kid asked quietly while Franky came to crouch at their other side.

Lucci gave a short nod, but said nothing more. He had grown silent in thought. The white bird perched on his shoulder was more talkative than Lucci as it cooed and bobbed its head. The bird had taken a liking to the warrior the day before, and, to Kid's surprise, Lucci was perfectly content to let it sit on him. He even caught him playing with the thing when they stopped to rest the previous night.

"I'm more interested in riches than battle," Franky said, "but I know plenty of my men are itching for a fight."

Franky was a big brute of a man, too. Bigger than Kid. He had a steel grip that once made Kid wonder if the bones in his hands were made of iron. He laughed and said that he would be happy to find a way to make a man from iron, and promised to show Kid if he ever managed to. The best he had done was create his iron-plated leather jerkin that he swore could shatter the tip of a spear. It looked heavy, but Franky wore the thick armor with ease. Kid hoped to see how well it withstood battle that day.

"This bastard looks like he's already dreaming of the blood he'll swim in." Kid gestured toward Lucci with a chuckle. "I don't see why we should make them wait any longer. There are two gates, one main gate and the other looks smaller, barely used. A noble should be living in that home closest to the southern gate, that's where most of the forces will be."

"We send a direct attack on the main gate," Lucci spoke up. "Draw their forces to one side and then break through with a smaller band at the other gate to attack the church."

"Those interested in gold handle the raiding. Those wanting to fight take on the army," Franky agreed with a nod. "Eustass, I know you've been hungry for a fight. I can handle the raid."

Kid rocked back on his heels, carefully considering his options. He was eager to shed some blood, but he wanted to see what spoils were in the church, too. He supposed he could just fight that much harder to break through the main gate and village to reach the church, and if he failed to get that far, he could always take the nobleman's home if they took the main gates. There was likely to be even greater plunder to be had there.

"Killer, see if any of our men have a preference, but I'll take on the main gates with Lucci," Kid decided.

His cousin nodded. "I know I'll be joining you. I'll see about the others."

Killer stood to relay their plans to the others. Franky went off to his own men to do the same, and Lucci continued to sit and stare at the hill and field standing between them and their enemy. Kaku had been listening to their plans, though, and went about sorting their ranks. He knew better than to break a man like Lucci from his concentration.

Kid took the time to return to his belongings. His sword was strapped to his hip, and he slipped an extra axe into his belt. He checked that the ties of his black armor were secure out of forced habit. For years, he never wore armor in battle, just as any other berserker would. His skin was his armor, and he ran headlong into battle fearless of the pain and death that might await him. But that was before he became a Jarl. Now he had the means to pay for good leather and mail armor, and had the reason to don it. He had people who relied on him, a village that needed his protection and leadership. He had no heirs to take over his rule if he died on his journeys, so it was wise to take care of his life as much as he could so he could return to his people with the wealth they needed. When he became Jarl, his life was forfeited to theirs. He would only die fighting to protect what was his. His wealth. His village. His people. _Nami_.

Even if she wasn't his, she still resided in his home and provided him another friendship he treasured. She hadn't needed to foresee his fate for him to know that he would die to protect her. The longer he knew her, the more she endeared herself to him, and the stronger his attraction to her grew – his fate was sealed without her ever speaking of it.

With battle looming before him, he shoved all thought of her out of his mind. He sent one of his men off that morning on horseback to see how the camp was fairing without them. The last messenger he sent had returned the night before and reported that the camp and Nami were well. Gunda, Kalifa, Mozu, and Kiwi had all taken command of the shieldmaidens, and even his own men had bowed to Gunda's leadership, while Iceburg's continued to heed Kalifa's orders. For his own men, Gunda was the most determined in keeping Nami safe, so it was wise to follow her command. Nami was surely pleased to have her security overseen by the women. As comfortable as she had grown with his men, he knew she was most at ease with the other women. He wondered if it was instinct for her after being born into a clan of women and raised by a dutiful shieldmaiden. It likely had more to do with the conditions she lived in under Arlong, but he hated thinking about those years of her life and what little he still knew about them, so he would rather think that it was more her mother's influence.

Knowing that Nami was safe and her last vision had yet to come to pass, Kid felt he could focus on his battles without worry.

"I'll lead a division of men against the western gate," Wire said as he came over, spear in hand. "We have nearly fifty total with Franky's men to take it. The larger forces striking the south should overwhelm them enough that our gate will be simple to take."

"Good. See that you secure that church. My gut tells me we'll find plenty of treasure there," Kid ordered.

Wire chuckled. "We'll want to take a large hoard so you can pay Nami off when we return."

Kid glowered at him.

"You're the one who walked in on her naked," Wire pointed out.

"Tsh, bunch of gossips," he grumbled. "Who's volunteered for the western gate?"

"Halle is intent on finding treasure for Nami," Wire said, his eyes shining with amusement when Kid growled. His men were supposed to restrain their desires for her, not run headlong into them. At this rate, they were all going to turn into madmen fighting each other for her attention. "Geir and Stig will join me, too. Axel and Ove mean to join you. Do you think you can take that gate, or are you just going for the glory?"

Kid grinned. "That's a stupid question." Wire laughed at that answer, knowing it was true. "I'll lead the way through that gate. I'll tear it from its hinges with my bare hands if I must. I won't know any glory unless I get inside that wall."

"I have faith you won't fail. You never do," Wire said, continuing to chuckle as he leaned on his spear. "And this time you have additional motivation in the form of a beautiful lady with a lust for gold you'll do anything to please."

Kid glared at him, unamused with the continued teasing. He didn't take his eyes off Wire as he snatched up his shield. The man merely smiled at him, unshaken by his snarl.

"You were the one who brought in the pretty little stray and showed her kindness you're not typically known for," Wire reminded. "If it makes you feel better, know that every single one of your men is envious of how close you are to her. We tease you, or flirt with her, because we know we can't have the friendship you two now share. Perhaps remember that before scaring the piss out of one of your own men merely for talking to her."

Kid hissed and turned his glare away. He'd think on that subtle lecture later, for now he had a battle to join.

"Secure the church. I'll find my way there after taking the southern gate," he called over his shoulder as he headed off to join Lucci and the rest. They were beginning to lead their fighters through the trees to a point that directly faced the entrance they were targeting. They would line up and wait for the Saxons to notice them, then blow their war horns before striking. They wanted their opponents to have a chance at preparing themselves for battle and signal for more soldiers to leave the western gate, leaving it open for the division hidden in the forest.

The sun was creeping to its highest point once their men had fallen into line along the top of the hill and began to march out of the trees. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. The valley was peaceful, a stillness only broken by their footfalls on the sweet grass and wildflowers, and the cawing of the crows and ravens that had begun to circle and land in the trees, anticipating a rich meal after the battle.

Kid stood at the forefront of his men on the right flank. Lucci had chosen the middle. Zambai, leading Franky's men, took the left. They would bear down on the gate from every angle. Lucci and his men would battle straight on while Kid and Zambai would attempt to break in through the side and rear, and ruin their formations while cutting them off from the men who would come to support them from the other gate.

As he watched the guards scramble away at the sight of their forces, Kid let all thought unrelated to his battle fall away.

It was a beautiful day for war.

* * *

The morning was perfect for a pleasant stroll in his rose garden with two lovely women at his side. They were two of his favorite servants and had volunteered to help him pick new buds to decorate his chambers. Each woman held a basket brimming with delicate red flowers. He supposed they could head inside to arrange them, but he wanted to enjoy the fresh air and sweet scents of his garden for a while longer. A breeze rustled his long blond hair, his white cape fluttered around his legs. It was too nice to be trapped inside his study answering letters from his nearby lord.

"Sir Cavendish," a steady voice called out just as he was leaning in to cut two white roses to gift his servants with. He stood straight to smile at his headsman, Suleiman. He always looked stern and humorless, but his frown seemed deeper than usual, making Cavendish's good mood wane. "There are heathens forming a line to the south."

Cavendish hissed. There went his pleasant day of gardening. "Ladies, please alert the household staff and tuck yourselves somewhere safe," he ordered the girls as he handed them the roses he held. They gasped and raced into the house without any argument, and Cavendish quickly strode toward his home right after them. "My armor?"

"Already prepared. Farhul is being saddled as we speak. Shall we send a messenger to the heathens to see if they wish to negotiate peaceful trade first?" Suleiman asked as he followed him in. He was already clad in his black armor and deep indigo cape. His straight sandy blond hair was tied back in a long braid he tucked into his armor to protect it from any who tried to grab it in battle. He knew as well as Cavendish that there would be no peace that day.

Cavendish gave a frustrated sigh. "You said they are already in formation for battle," he said as they reached his room and found a servant waiting with his armor ready. He shed his white cape and stood with arms outstretched so he could be clad in the gleaming iron mail and white leather. There was no time to waste, and his servant knew as much, hastily setting to work dressing him. "These heathens have no interest in trade or friendship. They never do. They merely come to pillage and take off with our women. Even after we've joined hands with their ancestors who settled to the northern lands, they still come. And those Danes looking to rule won't do anything to dissuade these raiders. I'd rather slaughter them all and show the king he has no need of them in our lands."

He let his temper thin as his servant secured the bindings of his armor on his shoulders. He would remain calm in battle, but the underlying anger would give strength to his sword.

"Even that Lord Urouge to our north has ancestry with them. He might be a Christian, but his father's family is from Birka. His own men claim he's a giant, but he always laughs them off," he continued to fume. "There are no true Englishmen anymore."

"Your mother was from Paris, was she not?" Suleiman reminded with an exasperated sigh. "By your logic, you're not a true Englishman, either."

"But she wasn't one of _them_ … And don't get me started on the Normans. They mean to conquer us all and are just as bad as their northern cousins, stealing our glory and lands," he growled, ripping away from his servant to throw his cape back over his shoulders and secure it. He snatched his sword in a huff on his way to the door. "But that's fine. I'll defeat them all and rise in rank. I will become our country's shining emblem. I'll be their white knight and the king will make me a son, a true prince and ruler."

He ignored Suleiman's sigh behind him as he stormed out to find his horse in front of his home, chomping at his bit. His precious Farhul was as eager for battle as he was. He mounted the tall white stallion and spurred the horse into a trot, heading for the southern gate.

"How many are there?" he called over his shoulder when Suleiman caught up on his brown mare.

"I heard that they counted nearly two hundred," Suleiman answered with a grim expression.

"So many?" Something didn't sit right with him. Such a large force to take one village meant they truly had no intention of letting them surrender. They were only interested in war and ruin.

"Word was already sent to the western gate to send what soldiers they could spare. They've barred it in case any of the heathens attempt to take it, but our forces will focus on the southern gate," Suleiman said.

They had just reached the gates when they heard the loud, bellowing horns of the heathen forces. The villagers were already scattering, fleeing into their homes. Some men took up whatever arms they could to defend themselves and went to the wall to help the soldiers in their battle. As he trotted through the gates to see the swarm of filthy warriors slowly descending the hill, Cavendish did a quick count of his own fighters.

Hardly enough for man on man battle, but he and Suleiman were strong enough to pick up the slack. And if they could cut some down before they even reached the village, that would help their forces.

He broke through his line to stand at the front. Archers stood at the wall, hidden in the turrets with arrows ready. On the ground, men lined up with shields and swords and spears, their gazes set on the enemy that began to pick up their pace.

Cavendish picked out the leaders easily. A man with red hair, a fierce glare, and bloodthirsty grin stood out among the men on the flank to his own left. Another straight ahead with dark hair and chilling eyes that seemed set on Suleiman told Cavendish he led the middle contingent. Those two were the most dangerous of all the forces.

"Archers," he called up to the turrets as the heathens broke into a run.

There would be no peace.

* * *

Arrows rained down on their army, but Kid refused to slow. He held his shield over his head and kept his eyes on the soldiers running toward them. He heard men cry out behind him, struck down by another shower of arrows. He didn't look back. He could count his dead after the battle was won.

An arrow struck his shield just before he lowered it to slam into the first line of soldiers to reach them.

He grinned as he felt his sword slice through flesh. He laughed as he shoved away a spear. He never felt more alive.

War brought him excitement, made his blood sing as the frenzy overtook him. The rush was addictive. He felt untouchable. So long as he had a weapon in his hand, none could bring him harm. No one could stand between him and what he desired most. And that day, he desired whatever treasures were hidden within those walls, and maybe the head of the man with gleaming silver and white armor galloping through the fray.

Lucci seemed to have picked his own prey as he slashed through Saxons with the speed and ferocity of a wildcat. His long sword shone in the sun when he first drew it, but it didn't take long for the shine to dull with every man it cut down. Even as the iron turned red with blood, Lucci's lust for battle hadn't waned as he set his gaze on the other man who came out on horseback. He looked strong as he tirelessly cut through the necks of their left flank.

Kid heard the ring of iron striking iron and looked to his right to find Killer locked with another soldier. His cousin was quick as he fought without a shield to hold him down. He donned only light leather armor and a gleaming iron helm as his only defense against an opponent's blade, and like Kid, he would typically prefer to go without. The only defense he swore he needed were the twin curved swords he sharpened until he thought they could cut a man in half with one strike.

If his opponent stayed still, Kid had no doubt Killer could do just that. But in the chaos of the battlefield, he contented himself with a deep slash that disemboweled whoever stood before him.

Kid turned back to his own battle in time to see a man charging at him. He hunkered behind his shield until the man slammed into him. His feet dug into the softened soil, bracing him as he pushed his shield up. He shoved the man onto his back and struck him while he lay stunned. His sword sunk into his neck, giving him a quick death so Kid could focus on the soldier barreling toward him from the left.

His sword shattered on their shield, but that didn't deter him. He tossed the blade away and slipped his axe from his belt. He knocked the other soldier's shield away to leave him open on the side. He slammed his axe into them with enough force to cut the leather and bend the chain mail. The soldier stumbled away, but didn't fall. Kid gave him no pause as he shoved at him again and again. He cut through muscle and tendon at the man's forearm, forced him to drop his sword. It was over for him the moment Kid's blade sunk into his neck.

He couldn't say how many he fell before his axe handle splintered and he was forced to snatch up any decent weapon he could. Younger soldiers would panic when their weapons broke, but it was a fact in battle that no sword would last forever. Kid relished in scavenging weapons from the fallen soldiers around him. He would kill his enemies with their own swords, and feel no remorse in it.

The smell of blood and death surrounded him. The grass and flowers of the field were torn and shredded, crushed beneath their feet, and drowned in their blood. It reeked, but Kid wasn't fazed, the scent only drove him to fight harder.

He was on his fourth sword when he bore down on his prey. The man had kept him in his sights as he slew any Norseman who came in his reach. As the field thinned of healthy fighters, giving Kid a set path for the blond, the man finally climbed from his horse and swatted him on the rear. Kid bit back a laugh as the white horse galloped off toward the safety of the walls, leaving the fighter with a pretty face all alone for him.

"You heathens will never leave us in peace," the man said quietly in English.

Kid grinned, but said nothing as he ran at the man. He used no shield, so Kid tossed his own away. It was cracked and likely would shatter completely with another strike. Without the heavy shield, he could put more of his strength into his strikes.

The blond caught Kid's first downward slash with his own sword, gritting his teeth as Kid put his weight into it. Shouting, the Saxon pushed back and knocked Kid's sword away. Kid braced his stance and prepared to slash again, but had to lean away from a quick strike aimed for his throat. His smile finally fell and he grew serious. This Saxon was fast. He couldn't underestimate him.

Kid blocked another slash, and then another. He got one strike to the man's side that split the leather over his mail, but didn't appear to do more damage. He felt the sharp sting of his opponent's blade slicing through the leather wrapped around his right wrist, but ignored the pain as he kicked the man away. Kid stumbled over a corpse, but snatched up the dead man's axe while blocking another slash from the blond with his sword. He swung the extra weapon at his opponent's stomach. The blond jumped away, but the blow still struck him hard enough to make him cough up bile.

Kid's lungs burned for air as he ran forward, seeing an opening as the blond tried to brace himself. His arms grew heavy from exertion, but he would not fall. Not that day. Not on that field. He would reach the walls and earn his glory.

His opponent was gasping for air, but there was fire in his eyes as he regained his stance. Their swords tangled, their arms locked together. The blond caught Kid's wrist before he could bring his axe down on his head, and once again he ground his teeth as they slipped around in the muddy soil. Kid heard him growl low in his throat and grinned in response.

Wire's horns bellowed over the fray, carrying on the wind from the western gate. The blond's eyes widened and he dared to glance over his shoulder at the village he was defending. Kid spared his own look to see the other gate come crashing down. Their men were in and it wasn't long before the screams of the villagers reached their ears.

"You bastards," the blond hissed, turning to sneer at Kid.

Kid chuckled and shoved the man away to break their locked stance. With the village taken, the soldiers would lose what little hope they had. Zambai was already breaking through the thinned formation to reach the southern gate, cutting down any that turned to run into the village, intent on helping defend it from the other attack. They didn't have enough men to save them, though.

Kid watched his opponent stagger back, curious if he would surrender and plead for mercy. His head had fallen forward, blond hair falling free from the tail he wore it in. He was confused when he saw the man sway. He didn't think the strikes he landed had been enough to weaken him that much.

It was pure instinct that drove him to step back just as the man lifted his head again. He only had a second to raise his axe and deflect the tip of the sword bearing down on his heart. It drove into his left shoulder, slicing through the unprotected seams of his armor. Pain lanced up his neck as the man continued to push and twist the sword into him. Kid bit back the urge to cry out and blocked out the pain as he focused on the man who caught him off guard.

He had been fast before, but this time he had lunged at Kid in the span of a single blink of the eye. Kid's only warning came in the maniacal grin the Saxon wore. His face was twisted, his pupils shrunk down to pinpoints. He was completely mad, swallowed up in a frenzy so overwhelming he doubted the man even knew who he was fighting.

"I'll kill you," he hissed as he continued to push his blade into Kid's shoulder. "I'll kill you all."

Kid loved that kind of challenge and couldn't help but laugh.

The man was about to jump away when Kid snatched his wrist again, holding him in place, sword still buried in his shoulder. He didn't hesitate as he slammed his forehead into the blond's nose before ripping the sword out and shoving him away. It hardly stunned the man. He staggered once, but as soon as his back foot planted on solid ground, he shot forward to slash at Kid's neck. Kid ducked and dodged, got the handle of his sword into the man's side as he passed, but immediately had to twist away from another slash.

He watched with dark humor as the blond cut down two of his own amid his madness. He had definitely gone insane.

Kid wasn't as fast as the man he fought, and now that the man had lost all his wits, he had nothing holding him back. He was a man with nothing to lose and happily sinking deeper into his own blood lust. Kid could only block and defend, and before long he was flat on his back with a sword point dangerously close to his throat. He held tight to the man's wrists and pushed back, holding him off as best he could. He heard Killer shout his name.

He was lucky his cousin was as fast as he was, because Kid doubted he could have held his opponent off much longer.

Killer slashed at the man's back, cutting away his stained cape and slicing through his armor. The man's attention turned away from Kid with a hiss. He had only a brief opening before the man either turned back to Kid and killed him, or jumped away to attack Killer. Kid tightened his grip with one hand and drew back the other to swing a hard punch into the man's jaw. He fell to the side, shocked at the unexpected hit. Killer took the newest opening and slammed the grip of his sword into the man's temple, knocking him out cold.

"Not going to kill him?" Kid asked as Killer yanked him to his feet.

"He's likely a nobleman," Killer explained. "We might be able to use him as ransom."

Kid hummed in agreement as he took in the battlefield. There weren't many English soldiers left, and Zambai's men had successfully broken through the gates. Lucci stood over the man he had singled out before, staring down at him with a disappointed frown. He didn't even look to be out of breath as he stood in the middle of carnage. Kaku was nearby, cutting down any other soldiers that still tried to fight. He spotted Axel and Ove already sifting through the fallen men, killing their foes that clung to life, and helping their injured brethren get back on their feet.

"Tie him up, then," Kid said, gesturing to the unconscious man. He tossed away his borrowed weapon as he headed toward the southern gates. The battle was done, and there were spoils to be had. "Anyone that might be important, we'll take as hostages."

As he walked toward the village, he noticed Lucci haul his opponent over his soldier. Kid lifted his brow as the man carried the fallen soldier with him.

"You didn't kill him?" he asked as he caught up to Lucci. He could hear the other man's rattling breaths and unconscious groans. Blood dripped down from a cut across his face, and his armor looked torn and ragged. He had been beaten badly, but somehow clung to life.

"He wasn't worth the effort," Lucci explained flatly.

Kid grunted. "Well, he might be a valuable hostage, anyway. If he's not, we can kill him later."

Inside the walls, they were greeted with a different type of chaos than what they faced on the battlefield. The band of raiders that came in through the western gates ran free through the narrow dirt paths, tearing through homes and capturing all the villagers they could find.

"I see you made it through," Franky called out as he casually sauntered toward them. He was far cleaner than those that fought in the field, only a few splatters of blood covered one cheek. He didn't have any cuts on him, so Kid knew it wasn't his own. "Did you find your glory in battle?"

"They were weaklings," Lucci spat as he let his captive fall to the ground. He walked by Franky, aiming for the church. "What are you doing with the villagers?"

"Capturing them for now and holing them up in the church," Franky said. "Wire's already got the priest and found a sizable hoard they were trying to hide beneath their altar."

"Anyone check the lord's home?" Kid asked, pointing toward the grey brick building.

"Not yet. All yours if you want it," Franky said.

Kid grinned as he spun on his heel, intent on searching the home. His shoulder was still bleeding, the limb heavy from its injury. He would need to get patched up, but he needed a hard drink before he let their healers anywhere near him.

* * *

With the village seized, they could take their time searching through it. A sweep of the lord's home showed there was no one left to resist them, so Kid decided they would occupy the village for a few days. They could rest, mend their wounds, gather whatever they desired, and head back to camp at their leisure. Assuming his messenger didn't return with bad news.

Lucci's men had decided to remain at the church, securing the surviving villagers within. Kid wasn't sure what Lucci intended to do with them, and wasn't inclined to ask.

Kid and Franky took over the manor and surrounding homes. The masonry home wasn't big enough to be a castle, but it was richly furnished and well kept. They found the servants cowering in a cellar beneath the kitchen and dragged them out to work for them. Most of them didn't fight back. One of the women screamed, another cried when they saw their captives bound and unconscious in the main room, and Kid had to slit the throat of one of the men after they tried to come at him with a knife. That put an end to any thoughts of resistance, and his men settled in while the servants rushed around to do their bidding.

Wire brought a chest of gold trinkets, along with a bound priest, from the church just as Kid was sitting down at the table to have Axel treat his shoulder. He had Wire bring over a glittering chalice that hung over the edge of the chest, and ordered their new servants to fill it with the wine he found while rummaging in the kitchen. He made the servant girl drink it first to make sure they hadn't thought to poison them, and was satisfied to see the girl didn't die so he could enjoy his drink.

Axel helped peel him from his armor and blood soaked tunic. He noticed that his left side was heavily bruised, covered in mottled web of blue and purple. He hadn't felt that injury when he received it, but he would surely be hurting for a few days because of it. The damage to his shoulder was more worrisome. The bleeding had stopped by that point, but the joint had swelled and the skin turned an angry red around the wound. An attempt to rotate his arm brought a sharp pain that shot up his neck and stabbed at the back of his head. Holding a shield would be cumbersome for a while, but he should be able to manage. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything else with that arm for a week or two, though.

The new wound on his right arm amused him. He still had a scar on that arm from Nami slashing at him after he woke her from the sleep thorn's curse, and now he would have a new scar running parallel to the other. He seemed to be collecting scars ever since Nami came into his life.

Once Axel finished wrapping his shoulder, Kid decided to wander the home. Their captives were still unconscious and he was curious what other treasures he might find. He had found the lord's chambers earlier, but hadn't searched it yet. He had been more concerned with finding anyone who might be hiding in there. Now that they could relax a bit, he took his time to look around.

The room was decorated in silk tapestries and vases filled with roses. The large bed was canopied with white and purple silk, the frame and banisters carved with gilded flowers. The bedding was soft, and when he sat down, his weight sank in until the bed comfortably embraced him. He imagined Nami would be envious to hear that he got to sleep in that bed. With all the silk and flowers, it looked like it had been made for a princess or queen. Nami would appreciate the finer touches, likely knowing how costly it had to be.

He dragged himself from the bed before he could doze off, and crossed the room to a desk in the corner. He examined one ceramic vase that sat atop it before tossing it to the ground, uncaring when it shattered. He was too concerned with everything else that sat on the desk to think about spilled water and crushed roses.

The desk was covered in papers and leather bound books. Curious, he sat down in the wooden chair as he picked up a piece of parchment with swirls of black ink on it. He could speak the English language, at least just barely, but he didn't understand the letters well enough to read it. He at least knew the words on the parchment were English, whereas the words in one of the tomes he opened were in another language. He thought it might be Frankish, but he couldn't be sure.

He sorted through the books when he found one with sketches that resembled the maps he had at home, tucked those to the side, along with whatever blank sheets of paper he found.

"Kid?" Killer called from the door just as he began to search through nearby shelves that were piled with more books. "What are you looking for?"

"What do those books say?" he asked, gesturing to the stack he set aside on the table.

Killer hummed as he opened the one on top. "As far as I can tell, this one is a journal. The maps are the routes to other villages nearby." He went to another. "This one is in… French."

"French?" Kid asked distractedly as he tossed books to the floor.

"A language some of the Franks use," Killer explained. "I can't understand it as well as Frankish, but I believe this is a book of stories about their saints." Kid grunted his understanding. He didn't care about that book if it was about their holy men. "Why are you going through these, anyway?"

"They're for Nami," Kid answered as he moved to crouch in front of a chest tucked to the side of the desk. He opened it and was pleased to find more blank parchment.

Killer chuckled. "I thought you were supposed to pay her with gold."

"If you saw how excited my maps made her, you'd know this is just as precious a treasure to her," Kid said with a laugh. "Even if she doesn't count it toward my debt, might be enough to make up for how I treated her the last few days."

"I thought you already talked to her about that."

"I did, but I'm not about to assume one conversation earned her forgiveness for being an ass to her."

Killer chuckled. "You're still feeling guilty about leaving with Birgid, aren't you?"

"Who?" Kid scrunched his brows in as he glanced up at Killer.

His friend glowered. "The woman you left with? The reason you thought Nami was upset in the first place?"

Kid's brow furrowed more. "Her name was Birgid? I thought it was Agot." He waved that detail off as Killer rubbed his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Well, whatever her name is, doesn't matter." Killer sighed again, but kept his thoughts to himself. "Nami said that wasn't what upset her, but I ain't stupid. She was livid when I came to bed that night, and the whole morning she looked ready to murder me. Don't understand why, but I'm not going to ask her about it again."

"So you're just going to appease her with whatever gifts you think she might like?"

"Better than letting her stew in whatever remaining anger she has. Maybe if I spoil her a bit, she'll think twice before gelding me in my sleep."

"I doubt she would go so far," Killer said. He frowned when Kid looked over his shoulder with a raised brow. "As I said, you're only doing this to ease your guilt… Which you shouldn't even feel. Nami said it herself, you're free to do as you please. Even if seeing you run off to sleep with another woman does upset Nami, she has no right to stop you."

Kid ignored him as he dumped the stack of books into the chest with the blank parchment. He had already made up his mind on bringing it all back for her. Even if it wasn't to apologize for his behavior, he would still gather them for her. He knew the paper and ink would make her happy. She could draw whatever maps she desired this way. The journals might appeal to her if she could make any sense of them, too. He didn't even know if she knew other languages, but if she didn't, Killer could always help her translate.

"Jarl Kid," Wire called from the door. "They're awake."

Kid jumped up. "'Bout damn time," he said as he snatched his cup of wine before following Wire out to the main room.

They had captured fifteen soldiers, as well as the two men of obviously higher rank. The soldiers were locked away in a barn, of no importance to Kid. But the priest and the two blond men who had commanded the army were bound up and kept in a corner of the main room. He had even graciously allowed the servant women to treat their wounds. If he was going to ransom them to whatever lord or king they belonged to, then he couldn't have them bleeding out.

As he sauntered out to the main room, he could hear the man he fought growling and shouting. Kid grinned at the vehemence of the man's tone, his smile widening when the blond's seething glare fell on him as soon as he entered.

"Leave my house at once, heathens," he snarled, fighting at the rope binding him. He sat up against one wall beside his other captives. The man Lucci fought sat in silence with no emotion in his eyes as he watched Kid's men. He was heavily wounded from his battle, so he surely knew there was no fighting the two dozen men packed in that home. The man who apparently owned the place was too furious to realize the same and continued to growl at them.

Kid ignored him as he threw himself into an ornately carved chair, replete with the same flowery designs on the bed. That appeared to infuriate his captive even more, much to his amusement. He grinned as he pointedly propped his muddy shoes on the table and waved his cup to signal for more wine.

"You arrogant beast," the blond snarled as a servant poured wine from a flagon into his cup. Her hands shook and she refused to look him in the eye, then ran off as soon as his cup was full. "This is not your home."

Kid didn't respond, choosing to sip his drink while eyeing the three captives. His own men chuckled, but wisely said nothing as they played along with him. He settled on staring at the priest. He was clad in a golden gown and wore gold chains around his neck. Jeweled rings were squeezed onto fat fingers he would likely have to remove if he wanted the trinkets for himself. He was old, wouldn't put up any fight. The sweat on his brow and bald head told Kid he was too much of a coward to fight, anyway. He'd rather hide behind his church walls and pray to his martyred god than bloody his hands. And despite the fear resonating from his quaking frame, the holy man still glared at him with an arrogant disdain that rankled Kid. He was looking down on him. Bound and beaten, and he still thought he was better than him.

"Do you even understand me?" the blond continued to fume. "Or are you pagans as dumb as you look?"

Kid's grin vanished as he stood. He didn't look at the man shouting at him, his whole attention was fixed on the priest. As he stalked closer, the priest's arrogance became masked by fear as he shrank in on himself. Kid crouched in front of him and listened to the man mutter his prayers.

"I don't like the way you look at me," Kid growled in Norse. He snatched the man by his gilded chains, startling him as he jerked him closer. "And I don't like the way that man talks to me."

"Holy Father, please deliver us from these savage demons," the holy man muttered.

"Demons?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at Killer. He had heard the word before, but wasn't sure of its meaning. He could take a few guesses, though.

"A creature or spirit of evil from their biblical lore," his cousin translated.

Kid grinned. "I suppose to them we would be demons," he mused while examining the cross that hung from the priest's chain. It was decorated with precious stones that glittered in the candlelight, with a smooth, polished piece of amber set in the middle.

"Get your filthy hands off him," the blond snarled at him. He sat furthest from the priest and leaned over their other captive to yell. Kid slanted his gaze toward him to stare blankly. "You drink my wine from a holy cup, and dare touch a servant of our Holy Lord. Do you have any honor, heathen?"

Kid silently glowered, then turned back to the necklace he held in his grip. With one hard tug, he broke the chain and ripped the jewelry off. Disdain returned to the priest's gaze, but it wasn't there for long after Kid pulled a knife from his belt and sank it into the man's throat. His other captive fell silent with horror as Kid leaned back to watch the priest choke on his own blood. Once the rattle in his lungs disappeared and his limbs stopped twitching, Kid stood.

"String him up outside the wall," he ordered his men as he turned to the other two captives. "Hang him like their god so his people can worship him as a martyr, too." He lowered himself to his haunches in front of the seething Saxon noble and grinned, switching to speak in the broken English he knew. "Anything else you want to say to this dumb heathen?" he asked. "Perhaps you'd like to join your holy man as a martyr?"

The man growled curses under his breath while Kid chuckled into his cup.

"Oh right, you don't like me drinking from this," Kid mused as he examined the gilded cup. It didn't make his wine taste any sweeter, but he enjoyed it more knowing it ticked the man off. "How rude of me," he said before tossing the last of his wine into the man's face. "There. I won't drink from it anymore."

Kid laughed as the man spluttered and hissed. Red wine stained his blond hair and dripped down into his eyes. He was as furious as ever, but wisely kept his mouth shut. His sneer said plenty.

Kid tossed away the chalice, letting it clatter onto the stone floor behind him.

"You said this is your home." Kid pointed at the blond with his bloody knife, amused when the man didn't cower away. He held his glare and disdain with a fury Kid could respect. This man was no coward. He fought well that day, proved his strength, even if it wasn't enough to win. "Does that mean you are the lord of this village? What is your name?"

The man growled. "I'm Sir Cavendish. I'm a knight entrusted with this village's protection."

"A knight?" Kid glanced back at Killer, seeking an explanation.

"A high ranked soldier. He answers to the nobleman that rules this village and region," Killer explained in Norse.

"So not a lord," Kid mused. "Would he be worth anything, then?"

"If he holds enough esteem and importance to his liege lord, they might pay a ransom."

Kid turned back to Cavendish, and then glanced at the other man. "What about him? Is he a knight, too?"

"He is Suleiman, my headsman," Cavendish answered.

"So an executioner… Doubt your lord would pay his ransom, too," Kid mused. "I'm surprised a knight has such a fine home. You seem to have as much wealth as a lord. You must be important."

"Of course I am," Cavendish said haughtily. "This home was a gift from the king for my many victories in battle and tournament."

"Tournament?" Kid's head cocked to the side in confusion.

"A contest of strength and skill," Killer explained. "They will pit their knights and soldiers against each other in single combat, or various other contests created to show their skills with various weapons. The victor is given accolades and gifts, sometimes even women."

Kid chuckled. "Remind me to start holding tournaments, then. They sound like fun." He leaned in toward Cavendish and playfully tapped him on the cheek with his knife, leaving a smudge of the priest's blood to mix with the wine still dripping from his hair. "Maybe your king will let us have this home since we bested you and your army in battle. We could protect this village better than you."

Cavendish's lip twisted in a sneer, and Kid cocked his head as he closely appraised the man. We wore an ugly expression, but his face was pretty. The bruises and filth of battle didn't do anything to take away from his soft skin and feminine features. His blue eyes sparkled like gems, even with the hatred in his gaze. For a man, he was actually quite beautiful.

"Hey, Killer," Kid said as he grasped Cavendish's face, tilting it toward his cousin as the man struggled in his hold. "Would you say he's prettier than Nami?" he asked, switching back to Norse so his captive wouldn't know what they were talking about.

Killer crouched beside him and cocked his head in thought.

"What are you heathens doing? Release me," Cavendish ordered, fighting at Kid's grip.

Kid dug his fingers into Cavendish's cheeks and snapped his head back toward Killer.

"Hmmm, perhaps he would be comparable to Baldr, but I would hesitate to say he rivals someone like Nami. If only to avoid angering her grandmother," Killer mused.

Kid's head fell back with a loud laugh. "That's true. We would be wise to avoid her family's wrath. Still…" He leaned in to grin at Cavendish, and spoke in English again. "He's pretty enough to satisfy me. What do you say? Join me in bed and I'll leave here without any more fight, and you can tell your king that you ran my army off the battlefield so he doesn't take your home from you."

"Are you kidding me?" Cavendish asked in a low growl. "As if I would lower myself to do such a thing."

"If you don't want to, all you have to say is no. There's no need to be so rude about it," Kid laughed, shoving the man's face away. "I'll just satisfy myself with whatever your lord ransoms you for, assuming they even think you're worth the cost. As I said, they might just let me kill you and have your home since you proved so useless against us." He gave a disgruntled sigh and frowned at Killer. "It's too bad he refused me. I've gotten so used to having a pretty girl in bed with me every night, it would have been nice to have the company of a pretty man while I slept in his bed."

Cavendish slumped forward as he spoke, and Kid wondered if his taunting had been enough leave him so defeated. That was a disappointment. He had hoped to entertain himself all night by toying with the man. He wanted to see that pretty face twisted with rage and homicidal glee.

"Tsh, you lose consciousness again?" Kid asked as he reached to grasp the man's hair.

Cavendish shot forward as soon as Kid leaned in. He couldn't do much bound as he was, but he still managed to slam the top of his head into Kid's nose with enough force to break it. Kid fell back laughing as Cavendish lunged at him. He grabbed the man by the throat to hold him off, and cackled at the face that hovered over his own. The man's beauty was lost in the twisted, malevolent grin he wore. The man he fought on the battlefield had returned, as bloodthirsty as ever.

He easily overpowered Cavendish with him tied as he was, and shoved him back against the wall. Kid gripped the man's throat tight, strangling him, but Cavendish didn't stop writhing in his bonds.

"I'll kill you," he hissed. "All of you are dead."

Kid laughed. "And you call us demons."

"You are fortunate he is restrained, otherwise we all _would_ be dead right now," Suleiman spoke up. "You are right to call him a demon in this state. Sir Cavendish is possessed by a violent demon we call Hakuba, one who relishes death and will slay anyone standing near him. Friend or foe, makes no matter. All people must bleed before him."

Kid chuckled as he stared at Cavendish. "You don't have to tell me that. I've already met this demon. I have him to thank for killing two of your soldiers that might have gotten in the way of our battle." He released Cavendish's throat as his struggles began to weaken, and then slammed his fist into the man's face to knock him unconscious. He slumped down the wall and fell to his side as Kid stood. "And your people might call that a demon, but that demon is of his own making. It's the frenzy that comes from battle, a fury that cannot be contained. If he were one of us, he would be clad in furs and called a berserker. He would learn to revel in his blood lust and control it, not squander and suppress it until it came lashing out to control him, turning him into that mindless beast."

Kid wiped away the blood flowing from his broken nose and went to retake the carved chair. Axel came over to hand him a wet linen cloth to clean his face, then handed him a fresh cup of wine to rinse out the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He prodded at the swollen bridge of his nose. It was offset to the right and making it hard to breath, so he waved Axel in to help set it back into place with a hard shove of his thumb. The sickening crunch and renewed pain made him wince, but he bit back his curses and drank another mouthful of wine.

"Which nobleman rules this village if he does not?" Kid asked their only conscious captive.

"There is a lord two days' ride to the north, but Cavendish is not on good terms with him. I doubt Lord Urouge would pay a ransom for us. He would likely come here to wipe you out himself," Suleiman said. "You can send a message to the king, but he is also more inclined to send an army to force you from your occupation than negotiate with you."

Kid rubbed his sore nose as he thought. Perhaps he could take their forces north in search of this Lord Urouge. If this knight had such a grand estate for himself, he imagined a ruling lord would have even more wealth in his home.

"Why is he on such bad terms with his ruler?" Kid asked out of curiosity. "If he is so loved by his king, why not his liege lord?"

"Urouge is not his lord, at least in Cavendish's mind. His father's family is from Svealand," Suleiman explained, earning Kid's full attention. "There is a village called Birka with a Christian congregation. Generations ago, Urouge's family lived there and worked as missionaries attempting to convert their fellow svear from their pagan ways. When they saw how futile their efforts were, even met with open aggression from a clan of priestesses and shieldmaidens to the west, they decided to leave and settle here. Cavendish believes the noblemen with Norse ancestry have claimed power and fame within our Christian countries that they have no right to, and quite simply have outshone him."

"Oh? He really doesn't like us, then," Kid chuckled. "I imagine he'd be pleased if I left to prey on this Lord Urouge."

Suleiman nodded. "Though I do not believe your forces would do well in battle against him, Cavendish would be happy if you killed each other and saved him the headache."

"Why don't you believe my men can defeat this lord?"

Suleiman's gaze was hard as it met his. "Because Urouge is a giant among our people. If you look upon him, you will no doubt see that he is one of your people by his size alone. He has a strong bloodline. Even his mother gave him strength from a union between a Norman and a Moor. He is born of all our enemies. He may be Christian, claim the pious life of a monk, but in his heart resides a demon the likes none have seen."

Kid chuckled. "If that was meant as a warning to frighten me, then it falls short. It only makes me want to battle this demon that much more."

Suleiman shrugged. "Then it will be your funeral."

Kid dropped the subject with another laugh and held up the necklace he stole off the priest. The pendant swung back and forth, and he stared at the amber as it captured the light, making it glow.

"Our messenger should return soon," he mused to his men. "Make sure we keep guards on the wall to signal him. I want to hear how the camp is before I make any decisions. If the camp remains safe, we'll stay here another day before heading north for this lord. If they've been attacked, then we'll return to them."

"It's unfortunate Nami's dreams don't give any details," Axel sighed.

Kid grunted his agreement as he continued to watch the pendant. Without a battle to distract him, the anxiety he felt over Nami's latest prophecy gnawed at him. He trusted that her guards would keep her safe, and that she would fight her own battles well enough to survive, but he was still unsettled by the prospect that his people might be defeated.

"What of their ransom?" Wire asked, gesturing toward Suleiman and Cavendish.

"There won't be one," Kid said. "He wasn't lying when he said the other villages would only come to war with us, and I don't know if we have time to sit around waiting for them."

"Should we kill them, then?" Killer asked.

Kid hummed in thought, his gaze casting from the pendant to settle on the Saxons. "No. If we ever return, I want to fight that madman again. It'll be more enjoyable to kill him in battle, than just slit his throat here." He stood and tried to stretch his injured shoulder. It stiffened with pain and he grimaced when he found himself unable to raise his arm above his head. That wasn't going to make his next battle any easier. "I'm going to help myself to that bastard's bed," he decided, snatching a flagon from a servant on his way by. "Wake me when the messenger returns."

Back in Cavendish's chambers, Kid returned to his curious search through the knight's belongings. He found a silver box engraved with flowers and knotwork that didn't hold anything within, but it was pretty, so he tossed it into the chest of parchment he meant to give Nami. She could keep her gold coins in it, or perhaps her jewelry. The woman had been building a collection of necklaces and earrings since she came to Drafn. Most were simple silver or bronze chains with polished stone amulets, nothing as lustrous as the gold he knew she lusted for. All her jewelry was scattered around her room, and she had been moaning about needing a box to store them in.

He dug through Cavendish's chests of clothing, but found nothing he cared enough to steal. There were some silk vest and shirts, but he doubted Nami would have any use for them. She wanted silk to make dresses with, that meant they couldn't already be fashioned into clothing. He tossed the clothes to the corner, and later decided to relieve himself on them. He knew it would infuriate Cavendish when he found the soiled clothes. Imagining the man's fuming tirade would satisfy Kid for days.

Once satisfied that there were no more treasures to be found, Kid threw himself into the canopied bed, hoping to find a few hours of rest. Sleep was hard to come by while out in the open. He only lowered his guard enough to shut his eyes as he leaned against a tree. If he was lucky, he might doze off for a few minutes before a rustle in the forest woke him. Now that he was within the safety of the village's walls, he thought he might find some rest.

He nodded off while idly playing with the cross he stole, his fingers gently sliding over the smooth amber stone. His worries remained at the forefront of his mind, even in his dreams, and what sleep he got was restless. His arms needed to move, to swing an axe or sword. His legs twitched and urged him to run. His pulse thundered in his ears until it turned into the steady beat of horses galloping over rich soil.

Fog filled his dreams as the restlessness grew. A hooded shadow lurked and then vanished. Another shadow formed, far larger than the first. A giant that grew and grew until his shadow drowned Kid in its wake.

 _The girl with amber hair… That is the one we take._

Kid shot up in bed, gasping for breath. The words of his dream echoed in his mind. A chill drew down his spine.

He told himself it was only a dream. It was only a nightmare bred from Nami's prophecy. But as he clutched the amber pendant he had fallen asleep holding, he wondered if her magic was calling to him. Was Hnoss trying to guide him into action? Was Freyja lending him her sight? What if it wasn't a dream?

 _These men are no better than wolves. We will hunt them and slay them._

The deep voice of his dreams resonated in his mind, remaining even as he sat awake. Nami had said they were hunters in her dreams. Could they be coming for her?

Kid threw his blankets away and climbed out of bed. If the dream was a warning, he could not risk ignoring it in the hopes it was nothing more than a dream. He would rather prepare for the worst and be proved wrong, than return to the camp days later to find them all slaughtered and Nami lost.

He said nothing as he stormed into the main room to snatch up his tunic. It was stiff and crusted with dried blood, but that didn't matter to him as he yanked it on.

"Kid? What is it?" Killer asked from the makeshift bed he made across from their hostages. The other men were sleeping around him, but began to stir at Killer's voice.

Kid grabbed his armor and awkwardly began to slip it on. His injured shoulder made that a challenge. The material was heavy and thick, less forgiving of his stunted range of motion. Killer dragged himself to his feet to help Kid in his task.

"I saw the hunters," Kid explained quietly while winding the broken chain around his wrist. He tucked the cross into his leather arm guard. "They're after her."

"What? Are you talking about Nami's vision?" Killer asked as he secured the last ties of Kid's armor.

"I think her mother is trying to tell me to go back to the camp. The hunters should be resting for the night, but I think they'll find the camp come morning."

"We're a day from them, Kid," Killer pointed out.

"By foot. I'll take one of the horses," Kid grunted as he pulled away from his cousin.

Killer glowered at him while he grabbed a sword from the pile of weapons they claimed from the battlefield.

"You guys stay here. Wait for the messenger and gather everything we mean to take. Don't forget that chest of parchment I left in the bedchambers," Kid ordered as he headed toward the door, snatching up his fur cloak along the way.

They all muttered their understanding, though he could tell they were uncertain of his command. If he waited on all of them to gather what they needed, they wouldn't make it in time. There weren't enough horses for all of them, either, and they needed to leave some behind to draw the carts of treasure they stole. This was his task, his burden. He had brought Nami into the village and offered her his protection. He wouldn't drag more of his men into this battle than he had to, not when he was already sure to lose those he left to guard the camp.

He raced out to the stables without waiting for his men to argue his decision. Cavendish's white horse looked to be the fastest, but it was aggressive and angrily snapped at any who neared it. Kid avoided that one, and quickly saddled the brown mare he had seen Suleiman riding into battle. He heard footsteps crunch through the dried rush lining the stable's ground, and turned to find Killer carrying a saddle toward a grey mare. His twin swords were tucked into his belt

Killer didn't have to say anything. Kid knew he would follow him, no matter what orders he gave telling him otherwise. It was a waste of time to argue with him, anyway.

He mounted his horse just as Killer finished securing his saddle. With a hard kick, he urged his mare to burst out of the stables and take off for the gates at a racing gallop. As soon as he made it out of the walls, he heard Killer's horse catching up to him.

They only had a few hours until sunrise.

But they _would_ make it in time. They _had_ to.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So this chapter was actually going to cover both this battle, and the battle at the camp, but since this got so long, I decided to end it on a cliffhanger._

 _I would like to thank madame-peregrine on tumblr for reminding me that Enel (as well as Urouge) come from the sky-island Birka - which happens to be the name of a real Viking age village in Sweden. It is near Stockholm, and in my research of the area, Birka had been the reason I picked that region for Nami's birthplace (Vasteras), which is just to the west of Birka. So the reminder that that village shares its name with a sky island some of these characters come from really helped with explaining Urouge's background in this chapter (and obviously it's going to be a huge help in the Enel arc). Birka is actually the site of the oldest Christian congregation in Sweden, dating back to the 800s, which I was going to use as a partial tie to Nami's father, but now I have more reason to bring it up here. I had already brought up a comparison to giants for Urouge, which is a trait used to describe the Viking invaders, so really does work perfectly. And as for Urouge's other ancestry being tied to the Normans and Moors (Muslims from Northern Africa, the Iberian peninsula, and areas around the Mediterranean) - I had already planned to have some of his heritage be based around the Muslims of the time, but as I was researching them, I found that Sicily had once been conquered by the Moors, and then conquered again by the Normans who apparently were tolerated by the Islamic populace because they were kind and actually protected them from the Franks, so a union between a Norman and a Muslim worked well to draw that side of his family into Christian Europe._

 _Also, I had to translate Cavendish's hatred for the 'Worst Generation' to work in this setting since he isn't going to have the same reason for his hatred that he does in the pirate world. Naturally his hatred then expands to the group of people many of them are descended from and takes on a very xenophobic tinge. I use six of the Supernovas in this fic (including Kid, Killer, and Urouge), and five of them are tied to Scandinavian countries, either directly or through ancestry._

 _By the way, even though I compare Urouge to a giant in this chapter, he is vaguely going to represent a Norse god, which I will bring up in the next chapter._

 _Also, I mention three other characters within Kid's army in this - Gier, Stig, and Ove. I'll start bringing them in more later on, but if you've been reading 'Dangerous Escape' (which I will return to eventually), then just know that the character 'Gear' in that is 'Gier' in this. I changed the spelling since 'Gier' is actually a Norwegian name._

 _And as I warned at the end of the last chapter - this shit is getting dark, and the next chapter is going to be worse. :) This chapter was a reminder that Kid is not a good person and does awful things and will continue to do awful things to his enemies throughout this fic. Killing a priest in cold blood and pissing on Cavendish's clothes are the least of his crimes. Hell, they're the least of the crimes he will commit just in England. This is the fic where I get to let Kid truly be Kid, in all his homicidal glory._


	16. Chapter 16

_Warning: Graphic descriptions of battle, gore, and character death._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The Spirits of Fate_

Nami was given little time to sink into her worries after the men left. After she finished her meal that first morning, she was hauled away by Kalifa to continue the training they started in Álasund. Gunda returned while she went through Glíma drills, practicing close, weaponless combat in the hopes it would round out her defensive skills. Kalifa had noticed during their fight that her speed and agility, and her utilization of escapes, would make the additional skill more useful to her. Arlong hadn't trained her much in hand-to-hand fighting, he didn't think someone as small as her would stack up against his men well enough to make the training worthwhile. She'd only end up hurt more than axe and spear training left her.

The exercise was exhausting, though Kalifa didn't push her nearly as hard as she had before. She couldn't be too sore if they went into battle, but her body needed to learn how to ignore the aches and pains. Every day it was becoming a little easier, her body adjusting, so she didn't complain too much over the newest bruises she earned.

When she wasn't training, she was keeping the men entertained. They were itching for a fight, filled with envy for those chosen to help in the raid. They needed distraction as much as she did, so she happily took Finn's suggestion and told the men whatever stories she could think up as they sat around their fires.

The first night, at Finn's request, she told of Freyr and the magic sword he gave away to earn the hand of his wife, the giantess Gerth he had fallen madly in love with at first sight. She told of how, even lacking the sword said to fight on its own, Freyr was still able to slay the giant Beli with but a single antler. She told them of Alfheim and the realm of the light elves that Freyr had been gifted in his infancy. She told of his ship that always found a favorable wind, and could be folded up and carried in a pouch. And she told of how he was fated to die battling the fire giant Surt in Ragnarok.

The next night Hróarr took up the task of storyteller to tell the tale of Fenrir's binding. The great wolf that was Loki's son had been bound in magical chains crafted by the dwarves. Because of his strength and ferocity, he was only contained through a trick. The gods wagered that they could find something he couldn't break through, while Fenrir remained confident that nothing in existence could hold him. After breaking through two attempts, he became suspicious of the third, the dwarves' chain giving him pause. He refused to continue unless one of the gods put their hand in his mouth, a sign of good faith that they would release him should he not break free on his own. And when he failed to shatter his fetters, and the gods refused to release him, he bit off Tyr's hand before he was secured to a boulder, forced to remain, howling and thrashing, his slaver flowing into a foamy river called Ván, until Ragnarok when he finally broke free to signal the end of their world.

The third night the men demanded more of Fenrir's tale from the older man, this time the story of how he would fall to Odin's son, Vidar. In the great battle, he would fall upon the wolf to avenge his father's death, wearing shoes specially crafted for this fate so that he could kick the wolf's jaws open and slice his mouth apart until the wolf died. Vidar was to be known as the slayer of the great wolf, the one who brought an end to his maddened rampage.

And when she wasn't telling stories, or listening to them, Heat stole her away to tutor her as best he could in the use of her magic. Without anyone better to help her, she decided to take a risk and share more of her story with the healer. He had been the first to notice the binding spell within her tattoo, had known the story of her false clan and even guessed that there were lies in the tale. He had understood the reason for her amber and gold bracelets, and she was certain he was close to guessing her lineage with just that alone.

They sat away from camp, speaking in hushed tones about her conversation with Kokoro and the hints she gave about Nami's abilities, and Heat came to a decision. She needed to embrace everything she was already capable of, utilize the tricks she had practiced for so long. They were truly a part of her, as much one of her senses as hearing or seeing or smelling. She needed to open her mind to all that the world of magic had to offer, something he regrettably was not as capable of helping her with as he wished, but he would help where he could.

That first night, after she told her stories, the healer asked her to walk with him to the beach, claiming that he wished to check the boats. While their own men knew of her visions, they still had to do their best not to rouse too much suspicion among Jarl Iceburg's men. Gunda kept Kalifa and the other shieldmaidens distracted for them, while Hróarr and Finn took up guard along the path to the ships.

At the beach, Heat handed her a stick and told her to draw all twenty-four runes in the sand and clearly state the name of each one. She honestly felt like a child again. Her village's healer, Nako, would sit with her for hours when she was younger and teach her every rune with his set of carved stones.

Runes were used in two ways. More simply, they were letters, symbols representing their spoken language. They were carved into wood and stone in their basic forms as linear inscriptions. Most Northmen only used them in such a way to lay claim of land, inscribed their name or their family's name onto a piece of property – a sword, a house, a farm, a cask of honey wine. Some would write poems with runes, tales of their gods and kings and heroes, inscribed into temple pillars and stone tablets.

The second use for them, and the one most pertinent to Nami's growth, was their use in magic and divination. While she knew the names of each rune, the meaning instilled into each symbol beyond the sound they were attributed to, she was sadly lacking in any education in their mystical properties beyond the simplest or most widely known staves, such as the sleep thorn Heat had crafted for her weeks before.

Each individual rune represented something. A god. A giant. A piece of nature. An element. An emotion. A condition. They were said to be sacred magic, gifted to mortals by Odin after he sacrificed himself on Yggdrasil to learn their secrets. They held wisdom far beyond what sounds they might spell out. They could foretell storms, or stave them off. They could bring blessings, or dark omens. They could protect, or they could curse. The runes could be joined together, woven into staves, some simple, some elaborate, but each imbued with their own magical properties dependent upon the one who crafted it. Some sigils were commonplace, others unique to a clan or creator, their meaning lost to those unable to translate the intricate designs.

Once she drew out and named each rune, Heat took her stick, pointed to each rune in turn, and asked her what they symbolized. Nako hadn't taught her as much about the mystical properties of the runes. He was a healer, not a sorcerer, he had no use for such magic. Instead it was Arlong who had taken up those teachings when he took her into the household he stole from her Jarl. He said she might one day need to know them, though he had never seemed quite as serious about those lessons. She supposed he was only keeping up appearances. Her usefulness for him had less to do with her magic than he had led her, and even his brothers, to believe.

When Heat was satisfied with what she knew, he grunted quietly and brushed away all the runes she had drawn out. He then took her wrist and led her to the water, until the chilly tide lapped at her leather boots. With a small tug, he ordered her to kneel in the water, ignoring her skeptical and confused look as he wandered off toward a pile of driftwood littering the beach nearby. She didn't immediately do as told, not until he returned to glower at her with a stern frown. Sighing, she sank down and winced at the water soaking through her wool trousers. She wasn't sure what he was planning, but she hoped it was at least a little helpful to make the sogginess worthwhile.

"What do you feel when out at sea?" he asked while he pulled out a knife to carve into a small chunk of the driftwood he collected.

She furrowed her brows at that question. What _did_ she feel? She felt all sorts of things that she was rapidly realizing few others did.

"When the storms came, you said the wind had changed," Heat prompted that first night. "All sailors have felt the gale that comes with a storm, but none feel it as soon as you do. What do you sense in those early moments that others do not? Focus on those senses." He tossed the driftwood down to her lap, gesturing at the rune he carved into it. "And focus on the meaning of that rune tonight. Weave it into your unconscious sense of the weather. Feel it in every breeze. Smell it in the salt. Listen to it in the waves. Tomorrow night we will do the same with a different rune until their magic is woven with the magic of the sea you inherited from Njord."

She scowled down at the damp piece of wood and the _ansuz_ rune carved onto it. She thought on why he picked that rune as the first for her to meditate on. It was a rune connected to the gods, Odin above all. It symbolized wisdom, inspiration, communication, and a link to one's ancestral line. It would open a channel to her own abilities, and hopefully encourage her to unlock the magic still trapped within and out of reach.

"If this is meant to connect me to Njord, then this should be on gold," she huffed. "He was a god of wealth, too."

Heat lightly smacked the top of her head with the stick. "Do not confuse your ancestral great-grandfather with your mother or grandmother. He is a god of the sea and seafaring, and the wealth attained from the seas, not material wealth like gold and treasure. And it is his gifts that have been in your grasp the longest. Strengthen what you know, and you might find the rest become more attainable." He turned away from her. "Sit, meditate, pray to Odin and Njord, and feel what you do while at sea. I will fetch you in an hour."

She huffed and grumbled as he walked away, leaving her to sit in wet, sinking sand while the ocean pulled at her legs. She knew that she should take his suggested teachings seriously. It was all she had to work with, after all. It was her only hope of controlling her visions and possibly altering their course.

 _Altering their course_. When that thought came to her, she sat a little straighter, staring wide-eyed at the ocean. It was just as she would do to avoid the worst of a storm. Her senses told her which way to turn. Her instincts told her what to do so they might weather a storm they couldn't completely avoid. She might not be able to stop the storm entirely, but she could lessen the impact by changing their course, and finding a new way to get where they needed to be.

It was just like navigating, and when she thought of it that way, she felt excitement bubble up within her, filling her with energy and determination.

So, that first night she sat, staring out over the darkening horizon, and focused on all her senses. She breathed in the briny scent of the sea, mixed with the musk of the driftwood in her hands. She felt the gentle lapping of the water against her knees, the shifting sand beneath her legs, the breeze rustling the sails of their ships nearby. A low haze sat far off the shore. She felt no storm in the air, but there was pressure, a dampness that hung a little heavier to her with each passing minute. They would wake to fog again, but it would burn away quickly.

She shut her eyes to the sound of gulls, and listened to the groans of their ships' hulls as the sea rocked them against the shore. She heard the gust build far out over the waves and the air above her. It rustled the very top leaves of the trees first, then grew louder until the sails snapped and what hair she left unbound flew about her face. The heavy wind vanished as quickly as it came and the world around her settled peacefully once more.

Her fingers danced over the uneven edges of the carved rune, a mark symbolizing their ancestral gods, the wisdom of Odin. He seemed to have a hand in the path she was set on now. He had been the one Freyja sought for counsel, the one who suggested the clan her family was hidden within, and the one who sent valkyries to choose her family's shieldmaidens. And now it was his warriors she relied on. They were the ones who offered her not only protection, but guidance and companionship she had lacked for so many years.

The wind blew through her hair like fingers combing out errant locks. She could almost feel the comforting tickle of fingertips grazing her scalp. It reminded her of the nights when Bellemere would comb her hair, humming quietly as she smoothed out the tangled strands. When she and Nojiko would run over the hills around the village or play in the river, their hair always turned into a nest of knots. Their mother had to spend nearly every night combing out their hair. Nami once thought the task might bore her, or be too tiresome to do, but Bellemere said it was as relaxing for her as it was for the girls.

She breathed in deeply as the fond memory filled her with the same peace she knew those nights long past. The wind continued to play through her hair, letting the moment of serenity remain and gently lull her into a daze.

"Who are the valkyries?" she heard a youthful voice ask upon the wind. It wasn't her own, though it was painfully familiar. Nojiko was far away, and no longer the child the voice belonged to, but Nami remembered the night her sister asked the question. Bellemere had been combing Nojiko's hair, long done with Nami's. She had been curled up in their bed, sleep about to claim her when her sister made her innocent query.

How old were they then? She couldn't have been more than eight, well before Bellemere had told them the truth of their home and the valkyries sworn to protect her.

Bellemere had chuckled at the question while working at a knot with her comb. "They're the female spirits that pick from the battlefield's slain, seeing half off to Odin in Valhalla, while the other half are sent to Freyja. You already know this, though. Why are you asking?"

Nojiko scowled, tilting her head back to glower at their mother. It was so rare for her to give their mother such a frustrated look that it made the woman pause in her combing. "I know _what_ valkyrie are. I was asking _who_ they are," she explained. "Were these spirits shieldmaidens in life? Were they daughters of the gods?"

Bellemere frowned pensively and then returned to her task. "There are names given for many, such as Brynhildr. Some are said to be shieldmaidens, others the daughters of royalty. But not much is known of who they were in the mortal realm, and when they visit the dead on the battlefield, they are often shrouded and indistinguishable."

"Are they pretty?" Nami chimed in sleepily.

Bellemere laughed while Nojiko huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Nami," scolded Nojiko. "Who cares if they're pretty?"

"I do," she huffed, sticking her tongue out at her sister. "I want a pretty one to take me to Valhalla."

"You would have to die in battle, and you might not go to Valhalla, either," Nojiko pointed out. "You might be taken to Fólkvangr."

Nami scowled in thought until she remembered the goddess who oversaw the field. She perked up immediately. "Freyja's there and Freyja has gold. And she's pretty. I'd be glad to go there."

"Still have to die in battle," Nojiko sighed.

Bellemere continued to laugh at the tangent. "Well, at least you have to die honorably," she explained once her mirth subsided. "But to answer your question, Nami, there are tales of valkyries more beautiful than any woman in Midgard. And there are tales of valkyries shrouded in darkness and malevolence, a terror for any that may look upon her. But all of them are strong, are warriors in their own right. Many are said to run amok on the battlefield, creating chaos and fueling the war so Odin might reap the best warriors for his hall."

"So how do you become a valkyrie?" Nojiko asked next. "If there are stories that say they were shieldmaidens or royalty, then how did they become valkyries?"

Bellemere hummed at that question. "I suppose they were picked for the task when they died, just as the warriors are chosen to fight for Odin at Ragnarok."

"But why were they picked? Were they the best fighters? Did they practice seidr? Did they make the most sacrifices?" Nojiko's questions came out in a flurry that stunned their mother. She had been so curious, so adamant of learning the answers, that Nami wondered the reason as she thought back on that night. Nojiko had always been calm, more mature than even the woman that took them in. Bellemere once said that her sister held a spirit wiser than her years, aged by circumstance and need.

When the relentless questions stopped, Bellemere sighed and tugged at another knot in Nojiko's hair. The force made the girl wince as the comb's teeth snagged on the knot. "Every person has their strengths and weaknesses. I don't know what the strengths of those chosen are, but I can say that if you seek to be such a spirit, then you need to be the best version of yourself you can be. A great warrior is not only strong of body. They are also strong of mind and strong of heart. Some have more skilled minds, are talented tacticians to make up for a lack in brute strength. Some have hearts filled with love or loyalty or determination, striving through all obstacles, even when the odds stand against them. If you wish to be honored by the gods after death, then sharpen all three parts of yourself, for a great person cannot prosper with only one." She smiled wistfully. "Body, mind, and spirit. You fight with everything you have and nothing less than that."

Nami opened her eyes and let out a long breath. Kid's words before he left camp had echoed Bellemere's own. She had to fight, she had to get stronger however she could. She would not fail.

Free of her trance, Nami took notice of the man calmly sitting beside her. Heat had returned without her being aware, and when she asked how long he had been waiting, he merely shrugged. She hadn't responded to his initial calls, so he chose to sit with her rather than break her concentration.

He said her smile was one he had only seen her wear while she slept in his hut under the sleep thorn's magic. He didn't want to force her from something that made her so happy.

After that first night, they agreed that her meditation should become routine, so they continued it the next night. Heat chose _sowilo_ as the rune for her that night, saying the sun suited her well, and once again carved it into driftwood.

Her mind carried her to days lounging in a longship, soaking in the warm sun as she listened to the oars splash in the water. It was such a vague memory, but still it brought her peace. She remembered a trip to Hedeby with Genzo, when she had been able to relax on the ship, reclining over his chest until the wind shifted and she gave a lazy suggestion that they turn eastward so their sails might fill better. She had never been so calm while voyaging with Arlong. She would never dare let her guard down around him or his men. The tension remained even while sailing with Kid, it was ingrained in her after so many years. But she had been able to find peace aboard his ship, even if it was in the middle of a storm. She knew she was safer with him than with Arlong.

The third night was strange. Nami felt a restlessness she hadn't felt before as they made their way to the shore. A nervous shiver seemed to play along her spine, one filled with ill omen. It reminded her of the sensation that came before a storm, the odd charge in the air that made the hairs on her arm stand straight. But as she stood on the beach, staring off at the sea, she felt no shift in the wind, no extra moisture in the air. There was no storm, yet the unease remained.

Heat gave her _eihwaz_ carved into the driftwood and she did her best to shake off the anxious feeling. This rune held more meaning to her after her dream of Yggdrasil and the Norns sitting on her back in judgement. As she focused on the tide lapping at her knees, she conjured images of the great tree until the salty smell of the sea fell away and was replaced with the scent of centuries old rain.

Her meditation that night led her back into the dreamlike world beneath the tree. As she shut her eyes to the English sea before her, she opened her mind to the vision of Yggdrasil and the incomprehensible runes carved on its trunk. When she woke in that other realm, she no longer sat upon the roots. She found herself lounging upon a thick branch, the fresh water wells far below. The old scent of the yew filled her senses and she breathed in deep to savor the heady aroma of the evergreen.

She stared up at the carvings on the trunk and calmly picked out the most familiar, reminding herself that the language was ancient and not as straightforward as it appeared. The runes she had once deciphered as blood and death were given more context. They did not all refer to the end of life, but the end of a journey, the death of a monster, the blood shared between kin. The stories written upon the trees were poetic in nature, filled with kennings that required more consideration rather than taken at face value.

As she studied the writings, she felt the ancient rain drip down on her brow and lips and nose. One fell upon her eye and she realized that where she sat was still far below the very top of the tree. The rain falling on her had hit those branches ages ago, far before she had been born. Perhaps even before her clan came into existence. Each drop fell upon millions of leaves and branches before finally finding their way to her. There was so much history behind her, and far more ahead of her.

A whole tree with branches reaching into times and worlds she would never live to see.

The Norns were there. She could feel their breath upon her neck and cheeks. She heard a bemused hum, curious and expectant. They said nothing to her this time. They merely watched and waited, anticipation filling the air around them.

Thunder crackled loud above her suddenly. The tree quaked so fiercely, she had to cling to her branch to keep from falling. The calm she had found in the boughs left her as lightning flashed through the leaves and the air turned bitter cold. She let out a ragged breath that turned to fog before her. She watched, stunned, as it swirled and grew dense, surrounding her until she could no longer see the tree trunk she had been studying. Thunder shook the tree again, a booming roar that deafened her and made her slip from her perch.

She crashed down through the branches. Pain lanced through her shoulder when she hit the roots. Her cry was drowned when she fell into the water.

She clawed for the surface as panic consumed her, but the surface seemed far out of her reach and growing farther every second. When her last breath rushed out in a gasp, she opened her eyes to what she feared was her watery grave.

She found herself standing upon a misty field and fell to her knees as she drew in a desperate breath. The air was rancid, a putrid smell that made her stomach flip and boil with vomit. She fought against the nausea to take in another breath and found smoke filling her lungs. That was when she realized it wasn't mist that shrouded the field.

Their tents glowed orange with fire. The grey mist turned black each time the fire found new kindling. Everything was silent around her. She couldn't hear the ocean. Nor the rain. No dogs howling. No wolves crying. All she could see was fire and mud…

And a shrouded figure standing amidst a field of corpses.

The buzz of a fly filled her ears, the only sound in that world. She blinked and when she opened her eyes the figure was standing before her, towering over her as she sat on her knees. Their face was shadowed by their hood. The darkness seemed to move and flow as they bent down. A hand dripping with black blood reached for her. The buzzing grew louder and louder, deafening her to all else.

The figure inhaled a raspy breath as their hand brushed over her hair. Their exhale came, as noxious as the death around them. And then the darkness broke free of the shroud, bursting into a thousand black flies with a thousand black eyes that swallowed her whole.

She jolted from the vision as abruptly as she had fallen into it. The buzzing silence of her vision fell away to the sound of her scream. A hand clamped over her mouth to silence her. An arm held fast around her shoulders. Heat held her tight, even as she fought and thrashed against him. She tossed the driftwood rune away and attempted to scramble away from the water. Heat helped pull her onto shore as her screams gave way to muffled sobs.

He held her as she shivered uncontrollably, wishing it were Kid's fur cloak wrapped around her, not the healer's arms. She felt vulnerable, naked. Her heart ached as though it were flayed within her chest. Pain seared her scarred shoulder, just as it had the last time she dreamt of Yggdrasil.

Nami feared to shut her eyes lest she find herself in that world of death again, but as she willed her heart to stop racing, she forced her eyes to close while drawing in deep breaths of clean air. The sea had never smelled so sweet to her. She greedily inhaled the scents until she fell limp in Heat's arms.

"What did you see?" he quietly asked once the panic subsided.

Her lip quivered. There was only one thing her vision meant. "Death has come for us all."

* * *

The mad monk had gathered his troops with haste. Dumah's message had come two days late. There were no assurances that the heathens would still be at their camp in another two days' time.

Urouge led his men on a march through the night and the next day. He only allowed them to stop for brief respites until well after the sun vanished on the horizon again. He stopped that night at the shrouded monk's behest. The man waved his hand, signaling he halt, then hastily pulled out a small roll of parchment. He had to squint and scowl at the black ink, angling it to catch some light from the moon to make out the new message.

They were not far now, it said. Less than a day's march. Urouge was uncertain, so he sent three of his knights off to scout ahead, advising that they be wary of the Northmen's guards, while he allowed the others to rest and prepare a camp.

As he sat by the fire, fingering a string of prayer beads, he carefully watched his silent companion settle far from the others. He was steeped in darkness beneath a tree, his head down and hands tucked within the billowing sleeves of his robes, hunched around a long, knotted walking-staff he had acquired before they left. If Urouge had not been watching him, he would have lost him in the shadows entirely.

He did not trust this monk. The name he gave was from Hebrew lore, one more familiar to those who had studied all the Bible's teachings, old and new, and read the stories of the angels and demons that visited their world. To take such a name, by choice, promised ill omens to all who came upon him.

"Monk," he called, grinning at the man when he caught his robes' movements. He waved for the monk to join him by the fire and waited until he got settled on the ground beside him. Even without seeing his face, Urouge could tell the man was only sitting there grudgingly. His amble was slow and stubborn, and when he sat his shoulders slouched. He tilted his head up and Urouge could feel the weight of a glare on him. He brushed it off and held out his skin of wine. "Have some," he offered. "You must be parched."

The monk shook his head and waved the offer off. Urouge laughed, then gestured toward the meager rations he had brought. Dried meats and a loaf of bread. A pot hung over the fire filled with an onion and cabbage stew.

"Then eat, at least," he suggested. "The bread is stale, but the broth will soften it nicely."

Again, the monk shook his head before moving as though to leave. Urouge halted him with a raised hand.

"Stay," he ordered with a grin that didn't waver when he once more felt the weight of a glare escape the darkness of the monk's shroud. "What more can you say of this woman you seek?" he asked, prompting the man to relax with the barest sound of a sigh escaping him. He remained silent, and Urouge laughed. "I suppose you can't _say_ anything, but that does not change my curiosity. If this woman be an angel upon our earth, as you claim her to be, then what are your intentions for her? Do you wish her ill?"

The monk shook his head in answer.

"If you are truly a devout monk, then you obviously cannot wed her," Urouge mused. "But I still feel the need to ask. Do you mean to make her your bride?"

This time the monk's shoulders shook with a silent laugh. He shook his head once his mirth passed.

Urouge hummed in thought. "You do not wish her ill. Do not wish to wed her. I doubt your intentions are of a carnal nature." He heard a vague snort escape the hood, but the monk said nothing. "Do you mean to take her into your monastery? To protect her from these heathens? Possibly give her to a convent so she may be close to the Lord Father through prayer and devotion?"

That question gave the monk pause. His head tilted to the side, considering. No answer was forthcoming, though.

The interrogation was interrupted by the clomp of horses' hooves in the distance. Urouge stood when he heard his men hail the camp and turned to greet them with a grin.

"What news do you bring of the heathen camp?" he asked as his steward dismounted before him.

"They are still there, just as the monk Dumah claimed," he said.

"What of the woman with amber hair? Did you see her among the heathens?"

His man frowned but gave a curt nod. "We saw her, but briefly and from a distance. One of the heathens was carrying her from the beach. She appeared unwell and distraught and pretended to sleep when some of the women gathered around them before they disappeared into one of the tents."

The silent monk stood from his place by the fire as they spoke, and vanished back into the shadows beneath a tree. Urouge watched him settle against the trunk, curling around his staff. His head bowed, as though intending to sleep, but Urouge doubted the man had any such intentions. He was watching them from a distance. He was not a part of their group, and would not join them any more than necessary. If it were not for the woman he had need of, Urouge knew he would have long ago slipped off into the night. He would remain only until he had the one he sought.

Urouge turned to his men. "Spread this message to all the soldiers – The girl with the amber hair. That is the one we take. These men that have her are no better than wolves. We will hunt them and slay them… But see that no harm comes to the woman. We will take her alive, and preferably unharmed. If she proves not to be what our friend Dumah claims, then we will send her off to join her heathen friends in their hell."

He waved for them to pass the message along, turning back to the fire and his meal. He would need the nourishment and rest for the battle to come.

"We march at dawn's light," he called after his messengers.

Battle could not come soon enough.

* * *

Nami slept fitfully that night. Heat had carried her back to the camp, ensuing an onslaught of interrogation from the women. Gunda was especially displeased with the state Nami returned in. It took a number of reassurances before she stopped looking at Heat with such a disapproving glare, and even after, Nami still had to whisper one word to Gunda to make her understand.

Her shieldmaiden knew far too well what Nami's visions did to her mind, and she didn't stray from Nami's side for the rest of the night. Except when Nami slipped out, tired and desperate for sleep, and snuck off to the tent where Kid had left his war chest. She didn't have his fur cloak to draw any comfort from, but she found an extra fur blanket to steal off to her bed.

She also helped herself to a spare knife he had tucked within his clothes. It was only a dagger, but she decided the extra weapon brought her more security in the face of death than a blanket.

She returned to her bed to find Gunda awake and frowning deeply. The shieldmaiden sighed when she noticed the fur and waved for Nami to get back to bed. Once Nami was settled, Gunda tucked the fur around her and laid at her side to comb her fingers through her hair. Any other night it would have lulled Nami to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes, she was greeted by the cloaked figure and his flies.

By the morning, her eyes ached for sleep and there was no ignoring the pit of dread in her gut. She wrapped her stolen furs around her shoulders, tucked the daggered into her belt, and wandered off to walk along the edge of their camp's fence.

Just as she dreamed, the morning was filled with fog so dense she could hardly see the trees around the field. The ocean was obscured, but she could still hear the gulls and the occasional clatter of their ships upon the tide.

Unlike her dreams, Kid's men were alert. Some were sharpening their blades, others seeing that their shields were handy. Archers were filling their quivers and checking their bowstrings. The shieldmaidens were following Gunda's lead and doing their own preparations. The other warriors from Álasund did the same, only a few daring to question the sudden unease in the camp.

"You should eat, Lady Nami," Gunda called to her as she walked another pass along the fence, her gaze straining against the fog for some sign of attack. "You will need the sustenance."

Nami scowled before grudgingly joining the shieldmaiden by the fire. She nibbled at a piece of fish, her attention held by the fog and unseen enemies she felt lurking. Her stomach roiled with anxiety, making her meager breakfast sit unpleasantly. She washed it down with water, handed the rest to Finn so he could finish it for her, and went back to her nervous pacing.

As the sun rose higher in the sky and the fog began to burn away, Nami wondered if her visions were false. She would gladly see that the stories she had been told were nothing more than myth and superstition. Even if it meant she was cast off as a fraud, she would rather see their lives spared.

But then she heard the horn.

She was on her way back to her tent to discard Kid's fur when the sound echoed through the trees. She stopped in her tracks. The whole camp came to a halt. It had been a short blast, nothing more, cut off in the middle of what they knew should be a longer bellow. She strained her ears while the men began to snatch up their shields and swords.

It felt like an eternity of silence, a perfect stillness unnatural in their world.

The men formed a wall at the fence. The women fell into formation behind them. A handful came to circle around her, led by Gunda as she tossed Nami her shield and axe. Her shieldmaiden still shoved her to the back of them. She might be armed for battle, but they would fight before her.

The clomp of hooves broke the silence first.

The thrum of a bowstring came next.

One of their own fell back with a shout as an arrow struck him in the arm.

Their shields raised just as the army burst through the trees at the top of hill and chaos fell upon them.

Nami had seen battle more times than she cared to in her life, but she had never taken up arms in one. She was always kept back, protected, forced to watch the slaughter. It was always ugly, no matter which side she was on.

The Saxon army that found them had them outnumbered. Not quite two-to-one, but close enough to make the situation look bleaker than it already did. If caught unawares, those numbers would have brought them a swift defeat, but their readiness gave them some chance.

Heat signaled for the archers to loose their arrows on the enemy bearing down on them. They struck down three men before the army reached the fortified fence around the camp. There four more fell to spears, and another two were struck by arrows in the neck and eye. They lost two of their own men to the enemy's arrows. When the fence fell, Nami couldn't keep track of the battle any longer.

Her instinct told her to flee, but she fought back her fear as their shield wall began to break apart under the Saxon assault. Her shieldmaidens took to the battle when it came upon them, and Nami had no choice but to join. She couldn't just stand there in the middle of carnage and hope to come out unscathed. If she ran from them, she would only earn an arrow in her back. A craven's death. No ancestral blessing would save her from the cold pits of Hel's realm if she abandoned her people. Her _friends_.

If she wanted to live, if she wanted to save them, then she had to fight.

The world within battle was foreign to her. She could hear people shout and scream, swords and shields clattered all around. It turned into a deafening cacophony as it blurred together and soon she couldn't quite say she heard anything at all. She could only hear the pounding of her heart as she scrambled and fought and tried not to get lost within the sea of warriors and blades threatening to drown her.

Her axe clashed with a sword once. The man drew back as soon as he met her eyes. He raised an alarm, lowering his guard to shout at another man. He was struck down by Gunda's sword as it sliced through his neck. Nami tried to ignore the splatter of blood from the attack, even as it slipped down her nose and cheeks. She managed not to retch at the sight of his lifeless body falling in front of her. She didn't have time to think of it. Another soldier bore down on them, one eye on her, another on the woman loyally remaining at her side.

His sword rang when it tangled with Gunda's. He slashed and countered, knocked her sword free before shoving the woman down. Nami acted without a moment of thought as she watched him arc his blade down, intent on impaling her guard. Her axe met his wrist before it could strike Gunda. He staggered back as Nami slashed again. He clung to his sword to defend, but one hand was useless and bleeding steadily, and his attacks hardly seemed lethal to her.

He stood no chance when Mozu came running in behind him. Her sword pierced through a seam in his armor at his side. He fell to his knees coughing up blood when she drew the sword back out. Nami didn't watch him fall into the mud. She turned to help Gunda back to her feet and shoved her shield into her hands.

Nami had a feeling she would not need a shield in that battle.

Her guard of shieldmaidens became scattered as the battle wore on, but Nami felt no danger for herself. Each Saxon that came near her merely batted at her axe, as though she were no threat to them. They only tried to disarm her. Never once did they come at her with lethal intent. No, any time they found an opening, they made to grab at her. One man got his hand on her wrist, but he was met with an axe to the back of his, thrown by one of Franky's men. Another man lay dying on the ground, but grabbed at her ankle. His eyes could hardly see, his skin ashen. Yet still she felt remorse as her axe chopped at his wrist to force him to relinquish her.

She had been so focused on survival that she had forgotten about her vision until an arrow flew into her shoulder from behind. Pain lanced through her arm, up her neck, and she fell to her knees clutching at the arrow imbedded in her flesh. Her weapon fell into the mud, forgotten in her pain. She cried out when a hand snagged her hair and pulled her back into his grasp. He shouted words she could only guess were in victory. Her eyes widened at the sight of a man on horseback barreling toward them, waving at her and the man who had her captive.

Panic welled inside her as she realized why her battles had seemed so easy.

They didn't mean to kill her. They meant to take her.

She refused to be taken by them. She had no idea what they wanted her for, but she knew it could not be good. She had heard enough stories about her clan to know that any man that desired to capture her did not mean to treat her well.

She fought at the man's grasp. Her left arm was useless with the arrow still in it. Every movement she made caused a shock of pain to lick up her neck. She ignored it as she pulled out the dagger she stole over the night and slammed it into her captor's side with all her might. He shouted and his hold loosened. He staggered back. Blood slickened her hand as she pulled the dagger out. She spun around, slashed at his face. He fell to the ground in surprise, clutching his wound as he scrambled away from her.

The grunt of a horse was her only warning before a hand grabbed at her injured shoulder. She screamed out as the rider clutched her arm and began to pull her away from the fallen Saxon. She turned to slash at his hand as he tried to tug her up on the horse. The scratch she gave him hardly deterred him, but it certainly angered him. His boot slammed into her temple and the world spun for a moment.

She was too disoriented to think anything of the shout that carried over the fray. The rider's hold on her vanished suddenly and Nami fell to the ground with a groan of pain. The shaft of the arrow snapped off with her fall, but the head remained and sunk deeper into her shoulder when it struck the ground.

She stared up at the horse as the world righted and she gasped at the sight of Finn on the flank of the horse, grappling at the rider from behind. Swords clattered as the boy tried to get his blade to the Saxon's throat, only to have it blocked by the soldier's sword. The horse reared and tossed the men off.

"No," Nami gasped as she watched the scene unfold, her body frozen where she sat.

Finn's head struck the ground in the fall, his sword flew from his hand. The rider lost his sword and had to duck before his horse could strike him with a hoof. He scrambled away, grappling through the mud for his weapon. Finn shook his head, trying to clear the shock of his fall.

Nami was wide-eyed, filled with fear and panic when she noticed the rider's hand find the shaft of a broken spear. Finn was recovering still, searching for his sword. He found it at the same time the Saxon's hand enclosed around the spear.

Time seemed to slow to her as she watched the Saxon sit up, spear in hand. Finn grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet. He turned to arc his sword down on his opponent at the same time the Saxon brought the spear up.

Nami heard a scream that filled her ears. She realized it was her own.

She couldn't let her vision come true.

Energy carried through her and she forced herself to move. Grim determination got her to her feet, drove her forward. She crashed into the Saxon's back and wrapped her arm around his. She pulled with every ounce of strength she had, hoping to open his arm, draw the spear's deadly point away from Finn's chest. She feared it wouldn't be enough.

She heard the sickening squelch of flesh being pierced. More blood splattered onto her face, dripped off her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see who was victor, fearing the worst.

The Saxon she held grew heavy. Her eyes shot open as she fell to the ground with his weight. She scrambled from the body and stared in shock as Finn yank his blade from the man's gut. He breathed out a heavy sigh and turned to her with a grin. His blue eyes shone bright beneath the mud and blood caking his face, but they were full of life, excited with the victory.

She felt herself grinning, too, even as tears stung her eyes.

Finn laughed as he held out a hand to her. "That was a close one," he took her hand to help her up. "I see I've earned the gods' bless–"

Her victory was short-lived.

She screamed as she saw the sword piercing through his back. The tip of the blade pushed in deeper, until it came out of his stomach, coated with so much blood that the metal turned black.

Finn coughed, clutching his stomach. The sword was yanked out and he stumbled forward. She caught him before he could fall into the mud, tried to hold him on his feet. His breath came out strangled. He choked up more blood, splattered it over her chest. His weight grew too heavy and he fell to his knees, but she stubbornly held onto him, embracing him.

"Finn," she screamed. Her cheeks were wet. She couldn't tell if it was her tears or his blood staining them. "Finn. Stay with me. Please."

He struggled for a breath and lifted his head. She would have sobbed in relief if it didn't sound so strained, filled with a rattle foretelling his death.

"Lady… Nami," he rasped into her ear.

A bloodstained hand came up, shaking with effort. She gasped out a sob as his fingertips grazed over her cheek. He took another breath, so labored and filled with pain that it made her chest ache. His last word made her eyes burn.

"Run."

The warning came a second too late. Her screams came anew as he was wrenched from her arms before a Saxon grabbed her. She kicked and cried out as he dragged her by the arm. He only pulled at her with more force.

He hailed to another man fighting gleefully amidst the chaotic battlefield. Her struggles ceased when she saw him.

If Arlong was a giant, then what was he?

The man was beyond the stature of a giant as he towered over the swarm of Northmen surrounding him. A grin was plastered over his dark features. He didn't look to be exhausted at all as he batted away one Northman after another.

She was surprised to see that they had so many men left. The Saxons' ranks had thinned considerably, but this one man standing above them all was taking on his enemies two and three at a time, swatting them away like flies. He stood stronger than his own army.

The Saxon giant grew even more excited when he saw her in his soldier's grip. He cut down one of Iceburg's men and spared a moment to search the battlefield. When he found the one he sought, he waved, and she followed his gaze up the hill into the trees. The air left her lungs at the sight of the cloaked figure, his face hidden within the shroud of a monk's robes. The black cloth shifted with his nod, and the dark-skinned giant turned back to her with a grin.

With a sweeping arc of his longsword, the man slew three more of Kid's men. A sob was caught in her throat as she watched them fall to the ground, lifeless or twitching with whatever life remained in them. The wolves that had pledged their lives to protect her lay all around him. No match for his strength.

He might as well be Vidar, cutting apart their great wolf with every swing of his blade.

As she was dragged toward him, she felt what little hope she had leave her. Everyone would die that day, except for her. They would die for nothing, sacrificed to her family's curse like too many others. She would be taken and used however this man and his cloaked friend saw fit, and Kid would hopefully abandon her as he should have, go back to Noreg with whatever men he had left.

The snap of a whip cut through the air and the man pulling her through the mud abruptly released her. He stumbled away to escape another crack of Kalifa's whip as the blonde stalked toward them. She snatched Nami by the arm on her way by, hauled her up onto her feet, and shoved her behind her while not once taking her eyes off the Saxon.

He tripped in his escape and fell right into Gunda's waiting grasp. The shieldmaiden slit his throat with a stoic frown and tossed him to the ground. She spat on his dying body as she hurried over to Nami.

"Lady Nami, your shoulder," she gasped, carefully taking her arm to assess her injury. Kalifa stood in front of them, glaring up at the giant now stalking toward them.

"It's fine," Nami urged, her voice quivering as she watched the Saxon's approach. They had greater things to worry about than an arrow in her arm. She knew better than to drop her guard when a giant loomed over them all.

He held out his hand, said something in English, his tone commanding as he waved for her to come toward him, his grin unwavering. Two women as her only guards, he had no reason to worry.

Kalifa lashed her whip up toward the man's face. His laugh bellowed as the leather lashed and wrapped around his forearm. Not even the hint of a flinch or grimace broke his mirth. He twisted his arm, further wrapping the whip around, and grasped the leather in his hand. With on sharp tug, he pulled Kalifa off her feet.

She didn't scream or panic. Nami envied her calm as she watched Kalifa draw out her dagger and lash at the man once she was in reach. She tore open the cloth of his simple robes with one slash. Her next slash was caught in the man's other hand and she was pulled up to hang like a doll before him. Kalifa kicked and thrashed. Her heel caught his chin hard enough to throw his head back.

He recovered quickly enough and slammed his forehead into Kalifa's. She fell limp in his hold with that one hit and was tossed away without a care.

Nami yelled out in warning as Gunda stepped forward next. It fell upon deaf ears as the woman raced at the giant. He made no effort to stop her, or to counter her blade. All he did was backhand her once and the shieldmaiden crumpled to the ground.

Nami choked back a sob as the man drew closer to her, reached for her. An arrow flew by his face, distracting him from her. Heat and Hróarr stood with their bows knocked and ready, aiming another flurry of arrows their way. The two men were covered in blood, but looked mostly well. She doubted they would remain that way as the Saxon turned toward them.

He didn't blink when an arrow sank into his chest. The second grazed his neck. He batted away a third as he curled up Kalifa's whip. The fourth was ducked with ease. The fifth caught his knee, but he didn't stumble. With the sixth, they were out of arrows and the man lashed his stolen whip at them, catching Hróarr on the cheek with enough force to tear flesh. Heat caught the whip on his arm and grimaced in pain. He was yanked from his feet and dragged through the mud toward them.

The Saxon stopped as an enraged roar fell over the battlefield. He looked up toward the hill, and once again Nami followed his gaze to see two men flying down toward the camp on horseback.

She didn't think she should feel as relieved as she did. The battle was far from over. But as Kid slashed through one Saxon after another, she found herself hoping again.

Killer raced ahead of him, spurring his horse into a gallop as he wove through the clashing warriors. While Kid was cutting down everyone in his path, his friend set his sights on the giant standing above her. The Saxon dropped the whip in favor of his sword, laughing at the new challenger.

Killer released his reins to draw his two swords. Once close enough, he leapt from the horse's back, right at the Saxon. He slashed with one sword only to have it blocked. His second sword found flesh, slicing through the man's shoulder before he landed and jumped back from the Saxon's responding sword swing.

He didn't fall back entirely, pushed off his back foot to attack again. He caught the Saxon's blade with one of his, strained against the brute force his opponent used, and slashed at the man's arm with his second sword.

Nami could only watch as Killer went back and forth, striking and blocking and dodging and striking again. Where the Saxon was large and undoubtedly strong, Killer was quick and agile, sneaking in slashes that left the man bloody where all the others who stood before him barely left a single scratch. The Saxon was even gasping for breath, though he looked no less deterred in his battle.

Meanwhile Kid was making short work of the remaining Saxons, steadily making his way in closer. He was dragged from his horse, but had somehow found an axe in the process and slammed it into the neck of the Saxon responsible. He continued his fight on foot, grinning in his own maddened glee as he slew each foe in turn.

Some of the Saxons had come to circle around her and the giant that meant to take her. When Kid drew toward them, one grabbed her by the arm, jostling her wound and making her cry out. Kid's grin turned into a snarl, his confidence morphing into anger, and he rushed toward her. The Saxon holding onto her began to drag her toward the hill and the cloaked figure watching from a distance. While Kid fought at the others standing between them, slashing at them wildly, Nami twisted herself in the Saxon's hold and kicked at his knees. He tripped, tried to kick her away, but she wrapped herself around his leg and sent him crashing to the mud. Before he could get up, he had an axe buried in his throat.

Kid hovered over them, panting in air as he staggered on his feet. She saw him grimace a moment and grasp at his left arm. His hand came away red with his blood, but he dismissed it as he grabbed her by the arm to help haul her up. He noticed her wince, spun her to see her shoulder, and then glowered a moment before setting his glare on the Saxon Killer was still fighting.

Kid said nothing as he shoved her away from the fight. His eyes narrowed as he stomped toward the Saxon, snatching up another axe along the way. He was truly enraged, and out for all the blood he could get in retribution for the camp's attack. He would kill every single Saxon there himself if he could.

While Killer had the Saxon distracted, Kid raised his axe, shifting it in his hand, and then threw it at the Saxon's back. It flipped through the air in a graceful arc and slammed into the man's shoulder blade, sending him forward with a grunt. The Saxon's grin finally fell as he turned toward the new threat and glowered at the weapon sunk deep into his flesh.

For a moment, Nami wondered if she was dreaming, or if she was delirious, but she swore the man appeared to grow before her very eyes. His shadow seemed to fall over all of them as he tore the axe from his shoulder.

Killer launched at him, heedless of the danger, and the Saxon merely laughed. He blocked Killer's swords with his sword and the axe Kid had thrown at him, and in the blink of an eye, slammed his knee into Killer's stomach. The blond retched and vomited from the force, then fell limp to the ground.

The sight of his closest friend and cousin writhing in agony only seemed to enrage Kid more. He snatched up another sword as he sprinted toward the Saxon and lunged at him, too. Their swords clashed and held. Each man pushed against the other with all their might. Kid's feet dug into the mud. His teeth clenched with the strain.

The Saxon let up suddenly, throwing Kid off balance. Nami cried out a warning that she knew would not help him as she watched the Saxon bring the axe around, aiming toward Kid's side. She clasped her hands over her mouth to hold back her scream.

To her surprise and elation, Kid caught the strike before it could hit him. He let out a strained laugh as he gripped the axe's handle and struggled to hold it away from his side.

A horn bellowed over the field, stealing the attention of the men locked in battle. Nami glanced up to see two more Northmen come crashing out of the trees on horseback. Kaku and Lucci galloped through the last remnants of the battle, flying toward Kid and the Saxon. The giant was forced to jump back when Kaku threw a knife between them. Lucci rode into the space created, a bloodthirsty grin on his lips, and slashed his sword at the Saxon backing away with a scowl.

His army had been exhausted in the battle, and he wasn't without injury. Kid and Killer returning from the raids when they did helped tilt the battle just enough to buy them time, and now with Kaku and Lucci there, that only meant the rest of their warriors were returning. The few soldiers he had would be heavily outnumbered and ill-matched against fresh fighters. Surely, he knew the odds were standing against him now, no matter his personal strength.

Growling, the Saxon hollered at the remainder of his army while slashing his sword at Lucci's horse. The horse fell, giving him room to make his retreat with his men. Kaku made to follow while Lucci scrambled out from beneath the dying horse. When the other Norman got in close, the Saxon grabbed him by the arm and yanked him from his mount, only to steal it for himself. He was much too large for the horse, but it still managed to bear his weight as he spurred it into a gallop.

Nami allowed herself to laugh with relief as she watched the few dozen Saxons race away from them. Some were too injured to do more than hobble up the hill before they were shot down by an arrow. Heat had found his bow again. Lucci found one for himself. Together they picked off a few more injured stragglers.

They had won… She fought and they won…

Her relief waned as her gaze swept over the decimated and smoldering remains of their camp. Killer struggled to his feet and waved Kid away, gesturing toward her as he did. Her gaze didn't linger on the Jarl as she watched Gunda claw up onto her hands and knees. She was shaken but appeared well. Kaku had found Kalifa and helped roll her to her back. She appeared to be conscious again, that was good. Mozu had her arm slung around Kiwi, the sisters limping through the fallen warriors.

"Nami, let me see your shoulder," Kid grunted, but she ignored him as she stared at the rest of the men and women that weren't so fortunate in battle.

Mist seemed to swirl around the bodies of the fallen. Ravens circled, their cries filling in the void left without the clash of iron. Her eyes watered as the mist coiled and billowed in tendrils, surrounding and embracing every still form. To her, it looked like the spirits of the valkyries coming to collect the dead for Odin.

When she spotted Finn, she gasped out a sob and took off running for him.

"Nami," Kid called, grabbing for her wrist to stop her.

She shoved him away, too focused on reaching Finn. He shouldn't be taken. He shouldn't be shrouded by that eerie mist. She had moved. She had fought. He should be spared. She had done what the Norns told her to do. If she was supposed to have the power to save them, then why was he lying in the mud with such an ashen white face?

She fell to her knees at Finn's side and pressed her hand over his wound, soaking her fingers in his warm blood. She sobbed when she saw his eyes staring up at the sky, lifeless and pale. Through her tears, she watched the mist collect and sobbed harder when she swore she saw a face in the wispy fog.

It was a face she recognized all too well. The smile the valkyrie wore was kind and loving. The soft caress of the breeze on her cheek was a bitter comfort.

"Bellemere," she whispered. Even blinded by her tears, her mother was as beautiful as ever.

"Don't dwell on the bad, Nami," the wind whispered back with words Nami held in heart for eight insufferable years. "Always look forward. And never let this world take away your smile. Good will come to you. I know it will."

Nami fell forward as the valkyrie vanished, taking with her what little warmth of life remained in the boy before her, and let out a wail that made the ravens take flight.

She wept even as Kid went to his knees beside her and dragged her into his arms. His fur cloak fell over her, blocking out the bleak world around her. His tight hold invited her to cling to him in her grief.

"I moved," she croaked. "I tried to save him."

Kid's arms squeezed around her and she felt warm breath seep through his cloak as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I know," he whispered back hoarsely. He pressed her face to his chest as he hugged her closer. "I know."

She sobbed against him. "I'm sorry, Kid. I'm sorry."

She couldn't save him from his fate. She couldn't save any of them.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I hope I caught most of the errors. I couldn't re-read this more the once. I made myself cry enough. As I said, this fic is going to be extremely dark, violent, and filled with bleak tones throughout, so hopefully this chapter, more than the last, gives you all a very good idea of just how dark this fic will get._

 _I warred with myself on Nami's actions in battle, by the way. While Kid, in canon, has clearly stated that he is willing to kill, does not feel guilt over his actions, and does not fear death himself, Nami is obviously very different. I reasoned that this is war, this is kill or be killed, but she still feels immense remorse for what she has to do. I do want it to be noted, though, that her strikes are not killing blows. She certainly came close when she stabbed the one man, but even he was not killed by her attack. So anyone who thought the stark differences in Kid's character in this fic compared to how I write him in an AU setting were a big change, those differences are nothing compared to the changes I do have to make to Nami's character to let her fit into this world and survive it. But even in canon, Nami is not a perfectly good person - she's a thief and pirate, after all, is not afraid to fight anyone she feels she needs to for her own reasons. Not to mention, her lightning should at least severely debilitate most of the people she strikes, if not kill them, but thanks to manga plot magic, it apparently doesn't do more than knock them unconscious and leave them a little singed._

 _And I gave away a ton of hints to the shrouded monk's identity, so I'm sure you can all guess on who he is, but try to suspend your judgments until the end. He is going to be a presence throughout this story, and while I might have inadvertently given him away a bit, I do want to keep his motives and intentions a mystery._

 _As for Urouge - I tied him to Vidar because he is said to be a god with strength only surpassed by Thor, and I personally believe that his strength in canon surpasses Kid's considering how much further he was able to get against Big Mom's crew. As for his stature as a giant in this fic - the gods in Norse lore are not necessarily a separate species from the giants. They are more akin to separate races. Many of them are descended from giants (including Odin and Thor), many marry them (such as Freyr), and according to the lore, the whole world is made from the corpse of a giant. There is a lot of blurring among them, so Urouge resembling a giant is not strange because many of the gods are in fact giants, too._

 _Oh, and if you didn't notice during the battle - Nami doesn't understand English as well as Kid does, thus why there is no written dialogue for the Saxons from her perspective. I'll elaborate on what languages she does know in the next chapter._

 ** _And please, please, please let me know what you think of this chapter. Action is extremely difficult for me to write, and obviously this is a painful chapter overall. I want to hear if I achieved the emotional responses that I hoped to get from this chapter._**

 _Edit: Fixed a spelling/ grammar mistake thanks to a reviewer. :)_


	17. Chapter 17

_Warning: Graphic depictions of violence/ gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The One to Carry the Burden_

Kid thought he hated Nami's tears before, but seeing her grieve over Finn, hearing her anguished wail, and feeling her body shudder and tremble with her sobs, that had been far worse than the pithy bout of weeping he witnessed weeks before. Her despair was felt by everyone in the camp as they silently went among the injured and dead, doing their best not to show their own losses, but still he could hear them sniffle and choke back their tears. Even he found it difficult to remain stoic. This wasn't the first time he lost a warrior, a friend. It was something they all had to face and expect when they entered battle. But as he held Nami in his arms as tight as he could, muffling her sobs against his chest, her grief seemed to turn into a knotted rope around his neck. The feeling wasn't foreign, but it was the one he hated most of all.

He would rather be angry, but there was no one around who he could take his rage out on.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to breathe. He shut his eyes, buried his nose in the furs covering her head, inhaled as deep as he could, and then let the breath out in a slow exhale. The tightness in his throat eased, but it was replaced by a heavy weight on his chest, like a fist closing around his heart and squeezing with every shudder that raced through Nami's frame.

Hróarr was the first to approach them. His gaze was sympathetic when he glanced at Nami's hidden form, but he said nothing as he knelt on Finn's other side. He shut Finn's eyes, folded the boy's limp hands over his chest, and then sat back to bow his head in silent grief. Finn's death was a blow to the older man, a hurt far worse than any injury his body received that day. He would surely be mourning that day for a long time to come.

Killer came over next with Gunda at his side, her arm slung around his shoulder as she staggered along. Long strands of her hair had fallen free as she fought, obscuring her face until she stood above them. Tears stained her cheeks, mottling the blood and dirt that clung to her skin. Through the mess, he could make out the dark blue and purple of a bruise on the left side of her face, while the right was covered in scratches. Her clothes were stained in blood and torn. Her hands shook and her body trembled, but he couldn't be certain if that was because of her injuries or her grief.

Killer helped lower her to her knees beside them while she kept her head bowed. Kid glowered at the top of her head as she lowered it even more. He heard her sniffle and her shoulders shook.

"Lady Nami," she croaked, her fingers digging into blood damp soil. Nami stirred in his arms, sniffling back her tears and lifting her head when he loosened his hold. "I'm sorry. I failed to remain at your side and protect you in battle. If I had stayed near…"

Nami pushed back the fur shrouding her to let it fall around her waist, and pulled away from him, leaving his arms to hang heavy at his sides without her in them. While she wiped at her nose and red, swollen eyes with one hand, the other reached for the shieldmaiden. Kid sat back and watched as she dragged the woman's head up, shifting closer to her as she did, and eagerly wrapped her up in her arms.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Nami whispered, her voice cracking as she comforted her shieldmaiden. She buried her face against Gunda's neck when she returned the embrace, the shieldmaiden's sob mixed with relief. "I'm so glad you're safe. I couldn't bear to lose you, too," Nami added.

Kid didn't want to interrupt the women as they consoled one another, but as he sat there watching his gaze fell to Nami's shoulder. The dull blue of her shirt was stained nearly black with blood. He had noticed the stain amid the battle, and the broken shaft of an arrow sticking out of the wound. The sight of her injury was enough to make his temper flare, but when he realized it was her left shoulder, memories were kindled that only further fueled his anger.

How much flesh had to be taken before that damn binding mark was completely broken? How much did she have to suffer before she was finally free of it?

"Nami," he grunted, breaking the women apart with his stern tone. "You need to have Heat see to your shoulder."

She sniffed back her tears once more and turned to frown at him. "It's fine for now. You need him to close up your wounds first."

She nodded toward his chest and shoulder, the wounds he had received in battle the day before. He had reopened them, and earned a few new ones in the process. He was ignoring the warm wetness of his tunic beneath his arm, stained not just at the shoulder, but also lower on his side. He vaguely remembered a sword slicing through the leather of his armor and hitting the mail beneath with enough force to make him lose a breath. He returned that strike with a blade through the Saxon's throat, and then forgot all about the injury as he set his sights on the next man he needed to fell.

"They're just scratches," he huffed.

Nami glared at him. He glared back. She then glanced up at Killer, and he followed her gaze to silently tell his cousin not to stand against him this time.

"That shoulder has already endured enough," Killer said calmly. "We cannot have you suffer another fever because we let an arrowhead linger too long." Nami appeared disappointed, but Killer would not be deterred. "I'll see to Kid's wounds in the meantime," he reassured. "Go see Heat."

Any further argument was silenced when Gunda chimed in with her own demands that Nami see the healer first. Nami got a small victory by insisting that Gunda come with her to see that her own injuries were taken care of. As the women stood and left to search for the healer, Kid continued to stare after Nami, glowering at the defeated hunch of her shoulders beneath his fur cloak.

"We were fortunate to make it back when we did," Killer said as he held out a hand for Kid to take.

"Were we?" Kid grunted as his cousin hauled him up, biting back a groan at his body's aches.

He glanced down at the boy, then around at the dead and wounded. Their battle against the village had seen only twenty of their near two-hundred warriors die. Many were wounded, some injured enough that Kid wondered if they would make it back to Noreg, but still they came out with an obvious victory. The camp had held their own well enough, even out-numbered as they were. Still they lost over twenty of the meager fifty they left behind, and might lose more to their injuries before the night was over.

Finn died, and judging by Nami's reaction it was exactly as her dream prophesied. Her visions were not to be ignored or taken lightly, which left them with a grim reality to face in the future.

"Nami is still here and mostly unharmed," Killer reasoned. "We didn't lose everyone."

"She had a vision last night," Hróarr spoke up. "She has spent the last three nights meditating and praying over the runes, trying to learn her craft as she had once learned to navigate. She said death had come, so we were prepared before the Saxon's army came upon us. Without her warning, we would have been caught by surprise, and their larger force easily could have destroyed us. Our losses are tragic, but not nearly as bleak as what she had foreseen. She changed the course of the day. Your arrival made that certain." He glanced up at the hill, brows furrowed. "Where are the rest?"

"I had a dream last night that left me unsettled," Kid explained. "I decided to return ahead of the others. Killer followed after me." He frowned as he glanced toward Lucci who was going among the Saxons in their field. "Oi!" he called to him, waving for him to come over. Lucci scowled, ran his sword through a Saxon's neck to hasten his death, and then came toward them. "I thought you and Kaku were staying with the people in the church?"

"Kaku had stepped out to relieve himself last night and saw you two take off on horseback. He went to that knight's house to see what had happened. Franky told us you were worried about the camp and your lady," he explained, gesturing toward Nami where she sat waiting for Heat to finish treating one of Franky's men. "We decided to follow after you in case your unease proved well founded. It seems to be the case, though unfortunately I missed my chance at a decent battle."

Kid snorted. "Are any of the Saxons left alive to be held hostage? We can return them to their giant friend and maybe you'll get that battle you desire." Assuming Kid didn't steal it for himself. He wanted nothing more than to see that man suffer for making Nami cry.

"I'll see what I find," Lucci said with a nod and turned back to his scavenging.

"Do you truly want to face that giant? I can only assume he was the Lord Urouge the headsman warned us of. What of Nami's vision of you?" Killer asked quietly as he set a hand on Kid's shoulder to guide him toward the remains of a tent.

"I'm not meant to die at that man's hands. She seems certain it's _her_ giant that kills me." Kid glowered. Nami saw today as a failure on her part, but she had been able to change the outcome, however slight it seemed. He would still need to take her prophecy seriously, but so long as she didn't lose heart that day, he was confident that they might be able to overcome it. At the very least alter it enough to see Arlong die with him.

When they reached the tent where his war chest had been left, Killer helped him remove his armor and peel away his tunic. He tossed his wrist guards aside, but took care to keep the gold cross hidden within one. Without the battle to distract him from his wounds, Kid grimaced as he eased down onto the chest. Blood trickled from the open wound of his shoulder, drying into a crust on his chest and arm. The bruising on his side from the day before was darker, he found a new red imprint of his chainmail where he had been struck. The skin had broken from the force, but there was no gash to worry over. When he tried to turn to the right, pain stabbed at him, flared around to his back, and took his breath away.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Killer while he dug through his own chest in search of clean linen. "That hit didn't look good."

Killer grunted but said nothing. Kid watched him carefully as he stood straight. His cousin's jaw tightened with a wince, but he held back any other sign of discomfort.

"Don't look at me like that," Killer huffed when he turned to him with cloth in hand. "I'm not the one who reopened wounds."

"You're still in pain."

"Nothing that will kill me." He went to work on Kid's shoulder, gently blotting around the open wound. "You'll want Heat to close this."

"It's fine," Kid grunted stubbornly.

"Nami isn't the only one who needs to worry about an infection." He sighed when Kid only responded with a glare. "At least let him use the poultice then."

Kid hissed, but didn't argue. Maybe he could convince Nami to treat his wounds again. It didn't hurt as much when she did it.

Killer made him hold the cloth to his shoulder while he went off in search of water to cleanse the wound and see about the poultice. Shortly after he left, Kaku peeked into the tent.

"Lucci found ten Saxons well enough to be held," he informed. "Your healer is seeing to our injured. The women that are capable are helping him, and I've set the men to work on gathering the dead and digging a grave for them."

Kid grunted, sparing a short nod at the information. Hopefully those hostages were of more use against the giant lord than those he left behind in the village. He would find a way to make that man suffer for attacking their camp. "Ask Nami how she thinks the dead should be buried. I have a feeling she'll want us to see our people off properly," he said. Kaku nodded and prepared to leave. Kid halted him with a question. "How is your cousin? Was she badly hurt?"

Kaku shook his head. "She lost consciousness for a while, but she's awake now and fussing over your lady. Well, she's trying to fuss, but she's still groggy so her lectures don't sound as stern."

Kid hummed in amusement. That woman would not let an injury stop her for keeping Nami in line. He waved Kaku off, grimacing when the movement jarred his torn shoulder. Killer returned with Heat behind him just as he was checking his shoulder to see that the bleeding had slowed. Kid growled at the silver container he saw in his healer's grasp, likely the poultice he preferred to use when bandaging wounds. Heat glowered back at him.

"I should be sewing your flesh shut, Jarl Kid." He frowned when he made Kid move the cloth from his shoulder as he came to crouch in front of him. "Or cauterizing it. We'll need to keep this clean until it closes. That might take a week, possibly a whole fortnight."

"It'll be fine," Kid grunted. "How's Nami's shoulder?"

Heat's frown deepened as he took the water from Killer and cleaned Kid's wound. "I need to cut the arrow out. It's embedded deep in her shoulder."

"Then why are you here and not seeing to her?" he growled, clenching his teeth at the sting of the warm water.

"She was adamant that I see to more severe wounds first. She had noticed the blood on your hand earlier and wanted me to make sure you didn't bleed out. The arrow keeps her bleeding under control for now. I'll remove it once I've seen to your bandages." He covered a piece of linen with poultice as he spoke and gently placed it over Kid's wound. Kid bit back a snarl at the sharp jolt of pain, and took a deep breath through his nose as he tried to ignore it. "She spoke with Kaku. She wants to burn the fallen in a stone ship."

"Then that's what we'll do. The others should hopefully return tomorrow, so we'll perform the funeral then."

"The men are already gathering the stones for it, and Kiwi and Mozu the kindling," Heat informed. "We don't have much ale."

"They should be bringing back a few casks of wine. We'll spare some of our hoard for the grave, too." He paused to groan while Heat began tying a cloth around his shoulder. The pressure on his wound made his arm ache. He would have to take care of it before they leave, and possibly have someone else steer the ship. Nami might be able to manage in good weather, but if they found themselves in another storm, she could have trouble fighting the waves. "Hróarr told me that Nami's been meditating."

Heat nodded. "She was skeptical about it, but after the first night, it seemed something fell in place. Only time will tell if it is enough to help her control her visions, for now they still seem to be coming of their own volition." With the last bandage tied, Heat grabbed his poultice and stood. "The arrow to her shoulder will likely break more of the binding magic. Just as her dream of the Norns beneath Yggdrasil did, I suspect her prophecies will come with more frequency. But with more of her magic within her reach, she may also find control of her magic to come easier."

"Let's hope she does," Kid grunted.

"Hróarr told _me_ that you had a dream last night that prompted your return," Heat said.

Kid frowned at the wrist guard sitting on the ground and reached down to pluck the cross out. He turned it to show Heat the amber stone in the middle. "I took this from their priest and happened to fall asleep with it in my grasp. When I had the dream, I suspected it was connected to Nami's family and magic. I wasn't going to risk ignoring it if that was the case."

"As I said of her bracelet – the amber is a guide for her magic. It might very well have connected you two after she had her vision. Perhaps her magic used it to call to you."

He immediately thought back to her nightmare in Álasund and how he had heard her scream when others did not. Her magic undoubtedly linked them together. Why it chose to rely only on him, he couldn't yet understand. He wondered if the gods had willed it to be that way, if her family had a hand in it. They obviously guided her to him, so why not weave their lives together through her magic? Maybe that was why he felt drawn to her from the start.

"Go get that arrowhead out of her," he ordered brusquely, waving Heat off, along with his thoughts about the amber and her magic. His healer sighed at the command, but nodded and took his leave. "I want to see who we captured," Kid said as he tucked the gilded cross back into his guard and made to stand, biting back a groan as his side ached and pain took his breath away. Killer was there in a heartbeat, ducking beneath his arm to help. "I should have brought back some of that wine. I could use a few drinks."

Kid shrugged off Killer's help as they exited the tent, and steadily made his way through the camp, limping as he walked. The bruising on his side made the muscles of his back and hip grow stiff and achy, but he stubbornly endured. It was a reminder that he was alive.

They found their captives bound up around two trees with Lucci leaning on a spear as he guarded them and Hróarr binding their open wounds. They didn't want any bleeding out before he could get his revenge on their lord.

"Your man says Lady Nami stabbed that one when he grabbed her," Lucci said, gesturing to one with the end of his spear.

Kid chuckled. "Did she now? I always knew she was a scrappy fighter."

"She used your knife to do it, too," Hróarr added as he finished tying a piece of cloth to a man's arm, tighter than necessary judging by the Saxon's grimace. Hróarr yanked a knife from his belt and held it out to Kid. "Found it not far from Finn."

"And how'd she come by my knife?" he asked with a snort of amusement as he idly flipped the knife in his hand. He wondered if her magic brought it to her, just as it had conjured her knife when he woke her from the sleep thorn.

"She slipped into your tent last night and borrowed it from your chest. One of your furs, too."

Kid rolled his eyes. Of course she did. The little thief. At least it was only a knife and furs she stole this time, and the former aided her in battle. He couldn't be angry about it.

"The Saxons that attacked Lady Nami in battle meant to take her," Hróarr added. "I noticed they were not fighting her seriously. I heard this one holler to a man on horseback so they could make off with her. Finn ran in to aid her when the rider grabbed her."

Kid slowly crouched down in front of the Saxon, grimacing when the movement sent a jolt of pain through his hip. The Saxon's skin was flushed and pale, his breathing labored. He might have survived the blade in his side, but it had certainly taken its toll on him. Yet he still glared at Kid as if he was capable of fighting while injured and bound to the tree.

He leaned with a pained chuckle. "The woman you tried to take, what interest does your lord have in her?" he asked, his English bit out through a low snarl.

The Saxon remained silent, his glare not giving away his thoughts.

Kid laughed again. "I know my English is rough, but I am sure it's good enough to understand." He glanced up at Hróarr and Lucci. His man nodded his agreement, while Lucci shrugged but seemed to share his opinion. Kid turned back to the Saxon with a grin. "Why were you after that woman?"

Again, he was met without an answer and Kid felt his temper slipping away. He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulder, ignoring the pain as the torn skin shifted beneath his bandages. Steeling himself to the pain, he shot his hand out to grip the Saxon tight by the face and yanked him forward to level his angry snarl on him.

"What? Did my little stray cat cut out your tongue?" he asked while pushing in on the man's cheeks. He forced his mouth to open as though searching for a severed tongue. "I know she's a fierce woman with sharp claws, but she's not the type to cut out a tongue. Then again, she's threatened to geld any man who spies on her in the bath, so perhaps I've misjudged her."

He followed the man's gaze as it warily shifted toward the camp. Nami sat on a log beside a fire, her armor and tunic off while Heat examined her shoulder. She leaned forward while clinging to his fur cloak, using it to keep her front covered. Gunda crouched in front of her, cradling her head and grasping tight to her uninjured arm. Nami buried her face in the fur to hide her pained expression when Heat took his knife to her flesh. She was enduring the slice of the blade with only his cloak and Gunda's hand to provide her comfort; it only proved how tough she was.

The fact she had to endure it at all only pissed him off more.

He jerked on the man's face to bring his gaze back to him. "I don't think you understand the situation you're in. That woman…" He gestured toward Nami with his knife, the blade level with the man's eyes. "She's important to me. And you and your lord came rampaging on my camp, on my people that did you no harm, and hurt them, _killed_ them." He pointed at Nami again as he leaned closer. "You hurt _her_. You laid your hands on _her_. You took away someone she cared for. You made _her cry_. And I won't forgive _anyone_ for that."

He lashed out with his knife and grinned at the blood that splattered over the left side of the Saxon's face. The Saxon's eyes went wide as the soldier beside him coughed and choked around the blade sunk into his neck before falling limp against him. The man trembled and gaped, searched for his voice as Kid brought his bloody knife back. He released the man's face.

"I'm going to make you suffer just as she has suffered," Kid whispered as he wiped one side of his blade on the man's cheek. "Nine is a scared number to my gods." He slid the knife over the other cheek. "I have ten hostages…" He ran the knife over the Saxon's nose, smearing blood down to the tip, and leaned in with a quiet laugh. "Well, I _had_ ten…" The blade continued down, painting more blood over his lips. "I only need one hostage for what I mean to do. Maybe if I spill the blood of nine and offer them to Odin, he'll tell me what you won't." The Saxon shivered as the knife fell past his chin and teased the front of his throat. "I'll bathe you in their blood and send you back to your lord with their heads." He slammed his knife into the man's shoulder and listened to his agonized cry as he twisted the blade inside him. "But you can rest assured that you did not betray your lord's confidence."

"There was a monk," he rasped frantically. "He called himself Dumah and spoke of angels. He told Lord Urouge that he wanted to save that woman from you heathens."

"Coward." Kid pulled away laughing. "So, you all call me a demon, but her an angel? That pisses me off." He slammed his fist into the Saxon's face and slowly stood as the man slumped forward, clinging to consciousness. "I won't argue that I'm a demon to you people. I doubt my own people would compare me to your saints. I'm not a good man." The Saxon picked his head up. His gaze was dizzy and unfocused, blood streamed from his nose, and his left eye was already beginning to swell. "But that woman is no angel. I'm offended you'd even think to compare her to one of your scared beings." Kid leaned forward, gripping the tree for support, and swung his knee into the man's face to knock him out completely. He heard the sickening crunch of a nose being broken, perhaps even an eye-socket was fractured. Kid spat on the back of the Saxon's head when it fell forward. "No angel of yours can compare to what she is. She stands above them all."

* * *

Urouge brought his men to a halt not far from the heathen camp when he noticed they were not being pursued further. They had outnumbered the camp and had the advantage of the high ground coming upon them, but the Norsemen had appeared prepared enough to defend themselves. He blamed the short horn blast their guard managed to get off before he was slain with an arrow. They had just enough time to form their wall.

Breaking through their shield wall had cost him a dozen good men, and he knew they likely would have lost more if they had been facing the healthier, more numerous warriors that had gone raiding to the south. They were fighting the old and young and women, and while they might not be the strongest of them, he knew not to underestimate them. Their weakest were born into battle, warriors that worshiped gods of death and destruction. They would not fall easily to even the best Saxon army.

The possibility of their strongest returning to join the battle would not only guarantee the defeat of his army, it would mean every soldier he brought was slaughtered and fed to their false gods. It was wisest to pull back and retreat. They would need to mend their wounds and reconsider the worth of battling again another day.

When he searched for the silent monk that sent him on his fool's errand and found the man missing, he knew that to attack again would be more foolish than their first battle had been. Yet he still sent his healthiest men out to search for him. The monk might have been captured when he wasn't watching. Perhaps he was felled with a wayward arrow in battle. While Urouge had his doubts, he would rather believe the best in the monk than assume he had abandoned them.

"Lord Urouge," his steward called out. Urouge knelt with prayer beads in hand over one of his soldiers. The man had lost an arm to a heathen axe. He was in agony, but he was alive and that was far better than most of his army. "We failed to find the monk."

"Did you check the camp again?" he asked quietly.

"Our spies feared getting too close, but they reported no sign of the monk within the camp that they could see from a distance. They did see that no other heathens returned from their raids. The camp is still vulnerable."

"They may be vulnerable, but so are we," Urouge said. "We have faced more than enough loss this day, as have those heathens. Leave them to mourn their dead. We will do the same."

"But the woman…"

"Is worthless. I fear we were misled by a godless man. He was no monk. He was a trickster."

"Then should we hunt him down? If he's truly nothing but a blasphemer, we should bring him to justice before our God."

"For what purpose? He may be godless, he may be a devil upon this earth, but we have suffered enough punishment for following his path." Urouge wound his beads around his wrist and stood to face his steward. He forced a reassuring grin for the man and slapped him on the shoulder. "If we find him, we will deal with him, but I believe the evil he means to bring upon the world will not touch us again. We were pawns for his purposes here, but he has no use for us after our failure. That is fine. Let the heathens deal with him. If he is a trickster, I know of stories among their people that tell of fierce punishment for such chaos-bringers. And if they are not enough, may our Lord bring a pox upon that man as retribution for his crimes."

His steward frowned but grudgingly agreed. "What of the heathens, then? They will not be forgiving of us, either."

"Let us return home. We will fortify our walls and the village, call in stronger forces from our friends, and defend ourselves against their revenge should they seek it," Urouge decided.

"We can send a messenger and request peaceful negotiation," the steward suggested. "They hold some of our men hostage. We could ransom a deal and send them off in search of the false monk, point their vengeance where it rightfully belongs."

"There will be no negotiations with them. Those men are pagans. They care only for battle and gold, and they cannot be trusted to keep up any bargain. We would pay them gold to make peace and they would repay it with blood. I will not be caught underestimating them and assuming they will keep to the same laws of civility. I will prepare myself to crush them under my heel and nothing less." His steward bowed his head, but Urouge fought the grim mood with a laugh. "Do not worry. We will not be caught unprepared for the worst. Let's rest an hour, tend our wounds, and make our way home. We are not entirely defeated."

The steward forced a smile as he nodded in understanding.

They were not defeated, not yet. They still have a pulse in their veins and wind in their lungs. They were alive. They would find victory in the next battle. He would personally see to it.

* * *

Cavendish woke to the rough spun of a wool blanket. The course material scraped over the skin of his torso and arms, irritating him as he groggily blinked open his eyes. A dim flame flickered to his right, the only light to be had in the plain room he found himself in. With how severely his head ached, it might as well be a flash of lightning piercing his eye.

He groaned as he raised a hand to rub his eyes. His whole body ached, his skin felt tender and bruised all over. His fingers brushed over the bridge of his nose and he grimaced at the tender, swollen flesh.

"Sir," a deep voice spoke up from the foot of the bed. He lifted his head to find Suleiman standing from a chair near the door. Cavendish blinked in confusion. The last thing he remembered was being bound up in the main hall, with an obnoxious heathen that murdered his priest and threw wine in his face. How were they free? "I'm glad you're awake."

"What happened?" he asked, pushing to sit up. The headsman came to his side to lend a hand, but Cavendish batted him away. "Where are those damn pagans?"

"Gone," Suleiman answered bluntly.

"Just like that? They tear through our village and talk of ransom and then leave in the dark of night?" It was too good to be true. And if it was, then why had they let them go? Why leave them unbound? Surely, they had to worry about spies following them to wherever they set their camp. Or that they would send messengers for reinforcement.

"They actually left in the morning," Suleiman explained. "Hakuba took control again, but bound as you were, the heathen Jarl easily knocked you unconscious again. You've slept for nearly a full day."

Cavendish stared at him incredulously. "I've been asleep a full day and you are still here? Why have you not followed them?"

Suleiman glowered. "If I had been able to, I would have. Even disregarding my injuries, I was left bound and gagged until a stranger came upon the village to find us."

"A stranger?" He scowled at his headsman, urging him to tell the whole story.

Suleiman sighed heavily. "Late in the night the Jarl awoke. I pretended to sleep while he talked to the others in the hall. I could not understand what he said, but he appeared greatly disturbed and anxious. Something was wrong. One of his men helped him into his armor and then ran off with him. They never returned, but two more of them came to the hall from the church. The man who fought me spoke with another heathen, then discussed something with the man he came in with. They left, too, never to return. Before the sun even rose, the heathen army began to load up their spoils on carts, and then left without a word."

"Why were you still bound? Why did none of our servants free you?"

"They were tied up before the heathens left."

"And the citizens of the village?"

"Bound and blockaded in the church. None were harmed except for the men that attempted to fight the heathens. They said the Norman men who left after the Jarl gave orders that none were to be harmed, so long as they calmly waited for the army to leave. One of them… The one with dark hair I battled, he even struck down one of the men that tried to harm one of the younger women."

"Did they take any with them?"

"None."

"Strange," Cavendish mumbled. "We were spared, shown more mercy than I expect of heathens. That was a mistake on their part. We will raise an even stronger army to destroy them should they ever return."

Suleiman chuckled, much to his confusion. "I believe that Jarl would be pleased if you did so. He showed an interest in fighting you, as well as Hakuba, again."

Cavendish growled at the mention of that demon. He would have to train. He could not let that demon have free reign. "And what of this stranger? He is the one that set us free?"

"Yes. A poor monk was passing through and had hoped to find a warm church and water for his horse before he went on his way. When he found the village empty, he went to the church and heard the people calling for help. He unbarred the door and freed them, then came here to do the same."

"Our Lord blessed us with that small miracle," Cavendish said with a sigh. "Where is this monk now? I suppose I should thank him."

"He stayed only long enough to help treat some of the wounded while his horse was fed and rested. He has since moved on toward York."

"York? Why would he be going toward the Danelaw?"

"He did not say." Suleiman scowled. "Though, to be frank, the monk said nothing while he was here. He spoke only through written word, and very little at that. He was very strange. He did leave a message, urging that it was for your eyes only when you woke."

He held out a small scroll that Cavendish snatched from him. With a great deal of effort, he swung his legs over the side of the bed to lean closer to the candle at his bedside. It was then he realized he was not in his room.

"Suleiman? Why am in a servant's room?" he asked, glancing around as he untied the parchment and rolled it open.

"The Jarl took your room while he was here. He left it in a state of disarray and urinated on some of your clothes."

His temper thinned at that and he crumpled the parchment while he sought to maintain some sense of composure.

"The next time I see him, I _will_ have his head," he hissed. Suleiman nodded in agreement, and Cavendish turned his attention to the message. His eyes scanned over the messy scrawl on the page, squinting at the black ink where it ran together, blurring the words. For a monk, his letters were an atrocity to the English language. "This stranger claims the name Dumah and writes…" He angled the scroll closer to the flame in the hopes it would make the words more understandable. "I believe he speaks of Lord Urouge… He attacked the heathen camp and…" Cavendish squinted and leaned in closer. When he finally recognized the words he was reading, he pulled back with a hiss and crumpled the parchment. "He was met with great victory for slaughtering half of the pagans there. He says it is certain that the army will depart from our lands as soon as their dead are buried."

He went to stand, overcome with the urge to chase after this silent monk and force him to rescind his account, but stumbled as his injuries flared. Suleiman caught him before he could fall, but he shoved him away to pace and rant anyway.

"That Urouge will take all the glory. Again! The king will reward him, but he only faced a measly camp, not a whole army! We should call upon the neighboring villages. We will raise our army now and strike those heathens before they can run back to their false gods." He stumbled again and this time could not fight off Suleiman as he picked him up and dropped him back into the bed. Pain lanced through his back and ribs. He arched off the straw mat beneath him and gasped for breath. Even as he panted, he glared at the man standing over him without a merciless frown. "What are you doing, Suleiman? We have a war to prepare for."

"A war you will die in if you attempt to battle as you are," Suleiman said. "I will send a messenger to Urouge to find the truth of the matter. As you say, it was a camp he attacked, and he only killed half of them. If it was a victory, he would have slaughtered the lot of them, not a fraction. For some reason, he retreated before they could all be killed. He likely endured his own devastating losses."

"We still cannot sit idle and allow those pagans to remain."

"Save yourself to battle them another day, when you are well enough to ensure your victory is a certainty. I know you desire the glory of their defeat, but I also know you would rather live to enjoy it," Suleiman reasoned.

Cavendish slumped into the uncomfortable bed with a defeated huff. The headsman had a point. There was no sense in battling for glory if he died. Well, he supposed he could make a name for himself in legend if he died defending a strong ally, perhaps the king, even that Lord Urouge. Still, he would rather live to hear the tales and songs that came of his actions in battle.

Sighing, he waved Suleiman away. "Fine, fine. I will rest and heal and battle another day. See to that messenger, as you said. I will have the truth of their battle at the camp."

Suleiman nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and I'm parched. Have a servant bring me a cup of wine and something warm to eat," he ordered as he tried to make himself comfortable in his temporary bed. He shut his eyes, expecting the headsman to silently obey.

Suleiman cleared his throat. "The heathens raided our stores." Cavendish's eyes snapped open at the news. "There is not a drop of wine left in the village."

Cavendish groaned. "Do we at least have food?"

"I'll have the cook see to that."

"Thank you," Cavendish said with a sigh.

He shut his eyes to the scrape of Suleiman's boots on the floor.

"Oh, and they burned your rose garden," the headsman blithely commented on his way out.

Cavendish shot up in bed with a pained shout. "Bring me my sword! I'll kill those heathens now!"

His servants rushed in to restrain him just as he tore open the wounds on his back. There would be no more battle that day, but he swore vengeance for his honor and his innocent roses.

If he ever saw that man again, he _would_ have his head.

* * *

Kid spent the afternoon and early evening watching Nami. She had stopped crying as she set about helping the others prepare to burn and bury their dead. At first, he was glad to see her grief ebb, he couldn't stand to see another tear fall from her eyes, but as he looked closer, he realized that she was far worse than before.

She hardly spoke a word to anyone. Every smile she gave Gunda or Heat was forced. Her eyes were hollow and distance. Her movements were sluggish as she pushed herself to gather branches and flowers and berries. She didn't even scold him as he followed her through the forest. She didn't even glare. It was as though she was oblivious to his presence. She even walked right by him on the way back to camp and didn't meet his gaze. He might as well have been a ghost.

He hated being ignored, but he couldn't be angry at her for it. All he wanted to do was cheer her up, to make her smile turn genuine again, to give her a reason to have hope. He even thought to invoke her anger, anything to get a response, a sign of life.

She went to the sea to bathe before supper, Gunda and the other women following her to _literally_ shield her modesty. They sent him plenty of scathing glares as he sat upon the hill overlooking the beach and watched, but Nami remained apathetic to his presence. At least she looked peaceful while wading out in the water, staring off at the horizon, so he left her to finish without him invading her privacy further.

He soothed more of his frustration by slitting another hostage's throat and tormenting the man who first tried to capture her.

When he came back into camp for his meal, Nami wasn't there. Her shieldmaiden told him that she had gone to bed without eating more than a few bites of dried meat and asked to be left alone for the rest of the night. He glared at her tent, considered storming inside and tearing her from her furs to drag her back to the fire with the rest of them. Killer's hand on his shoulder stayed him. He gave up with a huff after his cousin solemnly shook his head.

If she wanted to grieve alone, then he couldn't interfere, no matter how much he wanted to.

Tired from two days of battle and his injuries, Kid trudged off to his tent. He fell onto his furs with a loud groan and tried to find a comfortable position for his aching shoulder. He eventually settled down on his back and forced his eyes to close while he listened to the sounds of their camp. The men spoke in low hushes around the fire. He could hear others walking around, either taking up their guard positions or slipping into their own tents to sleep.

He doubted that they would be attacked again so soon. He hoped they wouldn't. The rest of their men should return with their treasures early the next day, assuming they didn't dawdle around the village any longer than necessary. They would have fresh reinforcements if that lord decided to attack then. But if the Saxons decided to take advantage of their weakness that night, then Kid didn't want to let his guard down any more than necessary.

Still, he managed to doze off eventually. He was aware enough of his surroundings, though, that he roused to the quiet flutter of his tent's flaps and the scuffle of leather on dirt. When he felt a touch to his shoulder, his hand snapped out to grab whoever dared to sneak up on him as he slept.

"Kid," Nami rasped through the grip he had on her throat. He immediately released her and pushed himself up to glower while she gasped in a deep breath. She should know better than to sneak into a man's tent while he slept in enemy lands. She was lucky he hadn't gone to sleep with a knife in his hand.

"Nami? What the fuck are you doing?" he grunted.

She frowned at him, her sullen pout just barely visible in the darkness. "I can't sleep."

Kid groaned as he fell back into his furs. He lifted his blankets in silent invitation and shifted to give her room as she slipped underneath. She had the fur blanket she stole wrapped around her shoulders, but let it fall away as soon as she settled into place on his right. He wrapped her up in his arm, tugging her against his side, and released a long sigh when she placed her head on his chest.

He tried to ignore the tickle of her breath on his skin as she let out a content sigh, the warmth of her cheek as she nuzzled him.

He doubted he would ever understand how she could find comfort with him. He was filthy from battle, covered in dirt and blood, not all his own, while she had cleaned off most of the grime on her body. He had spent part of his day opening the throats of hostages, while she helped tend the wounded and prepared to see off their dead with flowers and gifts. He met that day with cruelty and anger, while she opened her heart and bore her grief for all to see. He wasn't a comfort to anyone in their world, yet there she was nestling against him like he was the _only_ comfort in her world.

And he _adored_ it.

"Did you have a new vision?" he asked quietly as his fingers brushed through her hair.

She shook her head. "No. But I keep seeing him… I keep thinking about everything I could have done… I _moved_ , but it wasn't enough."

Kid sighed. "It's not your fault."

"But…"

He lifted his head to glare down at her, cutting her off. " _No_ , it's not." He could see Nami's eyes glistening and her lip quivering. He raised his other hand, ignoring the ache in his shoulder, and ran his thumb over her cheek. It was wet and he felt a tear fall against his thumb before Nami sniffled and buried her face to muffle a whimper.

He shifted where he lay, groaning as he forced himself to roll toward her. At least he didn't have to lay on his left shoulder to face her, but his bruises still protested the position. He ignored the pain and focused on grasping her chin to draw her gaze back to his.

"You have no reason to bear this guilt," he whispered. "You did what you could…"

"But it wasn't enough, Kid," she interrupted, blinking back more tears. He frowned as he wiped his thumb over her damp cheek again. "I thought it was… I saved him from dying by the spear, I moved and he slew the rider. I _changed_ that course, but… It wasn't enough to change his fate completely."

Kid's frown deepened as he thought. He idly stroked her cheek, running the backs of his fingers over her smooth skin. A bruise marred her jaw. There was a cut on her chin. If it was lighter, he would be able to see the splotchy redness of her skin, the swelling of her eyes as she silently cried. She fought hard and was bearing the weight of a fate that wasn't hers to bear. And she called herself a coward.

"If that's the case," he began while leaning his forehead to hers, "then it's _definitely_ not your fault." She looked ready to argue, but his thumb drifted over her lips, pressing to them to silence her. " _I'm_ the Jarl. If there is anyone to blame for today, then it's me." Her eyes widened and her lips moved beneath his thumb, just as ready to deny that statement as the last. "And Finn," he added, this time earning a defiant glare. "Hróarr told me what happened, everything he saw. You said you saved him from the spear, but he died anyway. All you see is failure on your part, when you are the one who succeeded. You saved him from the fate you foresaw, after that, his fate was in his control. _He_ made the mistake of turning his back on his enemies. _He_ made the choice to defend you in the first place. His death was of his own making, _not yours_."

"But…" He pressed his whole hand to her mouth and glared to quiet her. She glared right back.

"But nothing. If you're so adamant about not blaming him, then as I said, blame me. But _never_ blame yourself. It was _my_ decision to bring you here. You told me your vision, I was forewarned, but I still brought you. I still left to raid. _You_ are the one that saved this camp from slaughter. It's because of _you_ that they were prepared for whatever storm came their way. It's because of _you_ that Finn had a chance to determine his own fate. It's because of _you_ that everyone fought at full strength, their minds ready for battle, and held on long enough for me to return." Her tears were falling free again, and he sighed as he brushed his hand over her cheek to wipe them away. "Never blame yourself."

She let out a broken sob, her head bowing to hide from him, and he groaned in annoyance.

"I'm trying to cheer you up here, not make you cry more," he grumbled as he hugged her against his chest. Another sob came with a hiccup while he smoothed down her hair and buried his nose against the top of her head. "Tsh, I ain't good at comforting people, so tell me what to do to make you stop crying already."

He swore he heard a faint laugh, broken and despondent, but a laugh no less. He tried to pull away when she shook her head, but her arm came out from where it had been buried against his chest and wrapped around him to return his embrace.

"You're doing fine, Kid," she whispered, nuzzling his chest again. "Thank you."

He hummed into her hair and squeezed her tight. "If you say so."

They laid in silence for a while. Kid dragged his fingers over her back and through her hair while she slowly calmed. He fought off a shiver when she began to return the gesture, and muffled a delighted groan as fingertips gently teased over his spine. He knew she was feeling better when he felt another sigh tickle his chest. He ignored the flutter in his stomach that came as she melted against him, fought off the urge to kiss away the last of her tears.

His blood lust had been sated, but it did nothing to quell his growing desire for her, and holding her as he was only seemed to make it worse.

"What are you doing with the hostages?" Nami asked suddenly, her voice a careful whisper. "I heard one screaming earlier."

He scowled into her hair. He doubted she would appreciate his honesty when he answered, but he wouldn't lie to her.

"I'm killing them," he grumbled.

He was both relieved and disappointed when she abruptly pulled back, leaning away to stare at him in shock. "I thought you were going to use them as ransom?" she asked.

"They aren't worth a single ounce of silver, let alone gold," he explained. "And they don't deserve it."

Nami gaped, obviously wishing to argue, but too stunned to find the words.

"They attacked this camp with the intention of carrying you off," he explained. "They came here unprovoked, harmed people we both care about, and tried to take you." Her mouth snapped shut to pout. He sighed at the stubborn look that silently begged him to show some kindness, but that was an emotion he couldn't spare. Not this time. He pushed back a hair that fell over her face and let the touch linger as it followed along her jaw. "I'm serious, Nami. Nothing you say will change my mind. Any man that means to bring you harm, I _will_ make them suffer for it. I will get your vengeance for what happened to Finn. Remember what that fish lady said about us? Why it had to be me?"

"But Kid, I don't need any vengeance," she argued, snatching his hand from her face to clutch tight in hers. "And Kokoro also said I am your mercy, that I can stay your sword."

"Not this time," he said firmly. "I will return our hostages to that giant in pieces and force him to answer for what he did to you."

"He did nothing to me, though."

"Because he failed to capture you, but if he had taken you…" Kid growled, squeezing her hand in his. "The hostage spoke of a monk desiring to save you from us. He said they thought you were an angel."

"What?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "That makes no sense. Why would a monk be after me? And think I'm an angel? As flattering as that is…"

"It's an insult," he snorted. "These Christians call us all demons, but suddenly one monk proclaims you angel. You're _better_ than an angel, but to these men there is no better, and it's the only reason they need to take you from the demonic heathens that are surely holding you captive." He sneered in disgust. "And when they take you and see you are no holy creature to them, what do you suppose they'll do to you? Huh? I've heard plenty of tales of the things Christians do to pagans. We revere magic, respect those capable of it. They _torture_ and _burn_ them."

"But… Why would a monk say I was an angel if he only intended to see me burn? He could just as easily declare me a witch to incite their attack." Her face scrunched as she thought, trying to make sense of it all.

"How the fuck should I know what he was thinking? All that matters to me is that he wanted you, that he meant to take you from us, and this damn giant willfully helped him in his schemes. I won't forgive either of them for spilling your blood and making you shed your tears. They _will_ pay," Kid growled.

Nami was too distracted by her thoughts to balk at his seething anger, or to continue arguing his decision to punish the hostages for their actions. She relaxed in his arms as she contemplated, and he felt his simmering rage fall away as he watched her consider something.

"A monk?" she asked. "He said a monk came to them for aid? That a monk wished to take me?"

"Yes," Kid grunted. "He called himself Dumah and said nothing of his intentions for you, just that you needed to be captured."

"A monk?" she repeated, much to his annoyance. He was about to bark at her to snap out of whatever stupor she was in, but as she blinked up at him, he saw the genuine concern she felt as it mixed with her confusion. "I saw a monk."

"What?"

"Shortly after you left for the raids, I felt someone watching and saw a shadow in the trees. When he moved, I recognized him as a monk. Then he vanished. Gunda had the shieldmaidens do a sweep of the forest around the camp to search for him, but he was already gone…. I had the feeling that he was an ill omen."

"And it turns out you were right," Kid huffed.

"That isn't the only time I saw him, either," she continued. "The vision I had last night… He was in it. He was shrouded in black and shadows, and his hand was dripping with black blood. He reached for me." Kid frowned at that, but Nami wasn't done. "And then he turned into a swarm of flies."

"Flies? Why flies?"

"He was surrounded by death and destruction. Death attracts flies," she reasoned, though as her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed, he could see that something else nagged at her mind. "Flies…" she muttered, but then shook her head as if dispelling the thought. "And I saw him again during battle. When they captured me, they hailed to him where he stood out of danger. I saw him nod, and I knew they meant to take me, but I hadn't thought he was behind it. I still don't understand why."

"Did you see his face? Did you recognize him? Maybe he's one of Arlong's men."

Nami shook her head. "I saw nothing but shadows. And Arlong's not fond of Christians. He's only ever willingly worked with one."

"Could be a disguise then," he suggested.

"Maybe… But, that isn't like Arlong. I don't think it's him."

Kid hummed. "I'll have everyone keep their eyes open for any monks lurking around." He played with her hand as he smiled down at her, hoping to reassure her worries. "When the rest of the men return in the morning, we'll hold our funeral, and then prepare to leave… After I've dropped what's left of our captives off with their lord."

Nami glowered at him. "Kid…"

"I already told you, there is no swaying me," he interrupted.

"Just… Don't do anything reckless. You're injured enough as it is. I don't want anyone else to die," she pleaded.

His smile softened and he leaned in to press their foreheads together. "I promise to behave, but I'm still delivering those captives in pieces to their lord." Her frown deepened, but he nudged her head with his. "I swear I won't let any more of our people die here. I'll have a chat with that lord, see what else I can learn about this monk, and then we can leave with our treasure and our lives and put a whole sea between us and that man."

"I can't exactly imagine you having a polite chat with an English nobleman, Kid," she said flatly.

He scoffed, feigning offense. "I will have you know I was having a very companionable chat with an English knight just yesterday." She didn't look to believe him as he chuckled. "It's true. He stabbed me in the chest. I killed his priest. Then we bickered a bit over some wine and I tried to invite him into bed so I wouldn't be lonely without your company."

She rolled her eyes, but to his great relief he saw that she was fighting off a smile. "You're instilling me with _so much_ confidence in your diplomatic abilities," she said sarcastically.

"I know. I could be an envoy for our people," he joked.

"An envoy that will throw us into an endless war."

He snorted, shrugging the comment off. "We're already at war. We've been at war with these people for generations now. Me pissing on a knight's clothes ain't going to make it worse."

"You pissed on his clothes?" she asked incredulously.

Kid shrugged again. "He turned me down. I felt a little petty after having my heart broken like that."

She let out a derisive laugh. "I'm starting to think I should accompany all of you when you visit this lord."

"No," he said, all humor lost as he glared in warning. "You're staying here where it's safe."

"If you don't plan to do anything reckless when you meet with this lord, then I should be in no danger if I go with you," she reasoned.

He frowned. "You aren't going to want to see what I do with the hostages. It's not going to be pretty." She glared, but he stubbornly glared right back. "You stay here. I'll do my best not to provoke another war."

"If you're delivering dead bodies, then there will be no way to avoid that, Kid."

"I said I'd do my best," he huffed. "Have a little faith in me here." Her responding glower only made him laugh. "Are you worried about me?"

"Of course I am," she said, taking him aback with her honesty. "You're heavily injured and that man is _a giant_. How can I not worry?"

"But he's not the giant you've seen," he reminded. "I promise I'll return safely, and then we can all go home." Her lips pursed to show her uncertainty, and he leaned in closer with a wide smile. "I gotta say, it feels good to have a pretty girl worrying over me."

Nami tried to glare, but despite her efforts it still broke into a smile that made his own grow. It was good to see her smiling again. That was a smile he wanted to protect most.

"I thought you said that you didn't think I was pretty," she teased.

"Hmm, depends on the day. You're prettier now that you ain't sniveling and sobbing with snot running out your nose," he teased back.

She pulled back and punched him in the shoulder. It was a merciless hit that made him groan as he fought off the wave of pain from his injuries.

"You're also prettier when you ain't being mean to me," he huffed.

This time she prodded him with a finger. It wasn't comfortable, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as the punch. He looked down at her adorably puffed out cheeks and sulky pout, and chuckled at her. He pinched her cheek and tugged her closer.

"Fine, I guess you're kind of cute sometimes," he relented. "Even if you hit me."

Her pout deepened, much to his amusement. He released her cheek to wrap her up in his arms, drawing her face into his chest. "Go to sleep, Nami," he ordered, burying his laugh in her hair.

Her shoulders heaved with a huff of defeat as she sank into him. His hand found her hair and swept through the unbound strands to help lull her to sleep. He waited until Nami's breaths evened out, for her shoulders to relax in his hold, and then pulled back enough to examine her face.

Her tears had long since dried up. Her lips gently curled in a peaceful smile. As his fingers drew down her cheek, she turned into the touch with a content sigh. The weight she had been carrying when she came to him was gone, or at least pushed far to the back of her mind. Her despair was no longer dragging her down. He knew it couldn't hold her back for too long. She had overcome too much to let one defeat destroy her. She was too strong, too resilient. He had the utmost faith that she would rise up and find true happiness again.

Her smile grew as his fingers traced down her jaw, and he couldn't help himself.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips to her forehead and whispered into a chaste kiss.

"You're prettier than I could ever deserve."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Eustass Kid, by some freak miracle, is surprisingly capable of comforting someone in their grief. But only if he really, really, really likes them enough to make the effort. And then somehow manages to get some light flirting in there. The dude is so far gone when it comes to his feelings about her. He's screwed and he knows it._

 _Oh, and while I do see Kid as being pansexual, I feel he's predominantly attracted to women, especially romantically. His thing with Cavendish is mostly his sick sense of humor (though, in my head, he would sleep with the guy because he is really pretty). But here he's mostly just joking because he came on to Cavendish to get a rise out of him, knowing he wouldn't agree to it, and his comments to Nami are lighthearted, intending to get another laugh from her._

 _This chapter was going to be longer and cover the funeral, but there was going to be a noticeable tone shift between Kid and Nami after the funeral that I felt was going to be too sudden without the interaction between them in the last part of this chapter. It was also going to jump around a lot and skip ahead a few days, and I feel like it was best to focus on this immediate aftermath first, and then I can wrap up this arc in the next two chapters._

 _And I hint even more to the monk's mythological reference in this chapter. Like, blatant hint in Urouge's trickster remark. The flies are also related to it. I still refuse to outright state who he is, though. Even if you all have guessed it by now, I'm stubbornly keeping him shrouded in mystery. I do want everyone to reserve judgment on his motives, though, or the reason he is in the fic and playing this shadowy role. He will steadily get more and more development as this carries on._

 _I've also figured out a way to include another Supernova captain in the next chapter. It is in passing, but he gets to play his own minor role to explain a little more about what this monk is up to._

 _Oh, and thank you so, so, so much for your reviews last chapter! They all meant a lot to me. I feel much more confidant about the action I have yet to write in this fic, as well as the darker tones. I will not hold it against anyone, though, if it gets too dark for some to continue. Because as I've said, we're only getting started here. Things are just going to get worse in the next two arcs, especially._


	18. Chapter 18

_Warning: Some mention of violence, gore in this chapter. Also mild sexual content near the end._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Moving Forward_

The morning was spent preparing the stone ships for the dead. Nami had picked a field not far south of their camp, where the trees cleared and they could overlook the blue sea that brought them there. She forced herself to ignore the pile of rocks covering the dead, protecting them from the elements, while she directed the men to place larger stones around the field.

She decided that there would be two ships. The dead were taken to two different realms, so they needed two ships to help carry the grave goods they would be taking with them. Each ship consisted of a ring of rocks in the shape of one of their longships. In the middle of each they built wooden altars for the bodies to rest in the pyre. After they were burned, the remains would be buried, left to rest in the foreign lands they fell upon.

Kid informed her that the raiding party hadn't burned or buried their bodies when he left. He hadn't been certain if those left behind would see to it before returning, or if they would bring their dead back for all of them to honor. He had left it up to them to decide.

It was midday and they had just finished building the altar when Nami heard the raiders' horns signaling their return. Despite her lingering sadness, she found herself smiling when she heard Franky's voice ringing over the clatter of wooden wheels and horses' hooves. He was singing of victory, while the men chimed in with a raucous chorus. Their good cheer might not last long once they found the remains of the camp, but hopefully the spoils they returned with would give them less reason to sink into melancholy.

She finished laying out a bed of yew branches on her altar and turned to see Kalifa had just finished her own. Mozu and Kiwi were sprinkling sweet berries and wildflowers among the needles, while Gunda was helping Hróarr carry the weapons and broken shields they gathered from the battlefield. Kid was watching over them from nearby, a deep scowl set on his face as Heat wrapped his shoulder in new bandages. He had insisted on helping set the stones around the field and proceeded to tear open his wound again.

He grumbled curses at his healer, trying to drown out Heat's lecture. The curses turned into shouts when Heat tied the cloth tighter than Kid preferred, and the Jarl was quickly met with a sharp slap from the other man to stop him from messing with the bandage.

"Kid, let's go greet the others," she called, cutting into his snarls. She forced a smile for him when he glowered at her, brushing off his surly temper with ease. "You said they were returning with wine, right?"

That reminder convinced him, and he slowly stood while batting the healer away. He didn't want to be coddled, the only help he would accept was from an outstretched hand. He refused to appear weak, even among his own friends. He stubbornly trudged along with his limping gait until Nami came alongside him and nudged his right arm. He grunted and glared at her silent offer, but grudgingly threw his arm around her, pretending it was a lazy hug while he eased some of his weight onto her.

While talking to him the night before had eased much on Nami's mind, his condition made her anxious. He was injured worse than he let on. The puncture and slashes from the knight's sword weren't the worst, even if he continuously reopened them. The bruising on his side had spread around his back, up his ribs, and down to his leg. The pain that he pretended wasn't bothering him left him stiff and slow. He needed to rest, not search out vengeance against a giant she witnessed single-handedly crush most of their warriors.

But Kid would not be swayed. Any time she tried to talk him out of it, she was met with an angry glare and gruff reminder that he wasn't in the forgiving mood. He was taking her injury and loss personally. He wouldn't let the battle go, no matter how much she pleaded for him to leave them be. Even Killer couldn't sway him, but she didn't think he made a genuine effort in arguing it. He seemed just as eager to get vengeance as his cousin was.

When they reached the camp, Nami saw Franky leading the way with his horn in hand. His good mood vanished when he saw the state of their camp. His panicked gaze searched around until he spotted Mozu and Kiwi. He dropped the reins of the horses he led and sprinted toward them to hear of what happened and check their conditions. Their bruises and cuts didn't stop the large man from swallowing both women in a hug. Their pained groans as he lifted them off the ground were drowned out by his cries rejoicing their survival.

Wire approached her and Kid after waving in the carts laden with chests and barrels and food. Nami tried not to stare after the promise of treasure and focused on the scowling man before them.

She had not expected to be torn from Kid's hold and engulfed in a hug, but in the blink of an eye she found herself squeezed tight to Wire's chest. Kid shouted at the abrupt loss of his crutch, but bit back his curses while Wire released her.

"I'm glad to see you're well. The hall would become quite miserable if we lost you," Wire said, patting her head as Kid reclaimed her shoulder with a relieved groan. She smiled solemnly, but could say nothing else. She didn't think the hall would be all that cheery even after they returned. Wire turned to Kid, sparing a short nod for his Jarl. "How severe were our losses?"

"Half the camp," Kid grunted, gesturing off toward a tent. "There are three more hanging on to life by a thread. One died of his injuries during the night. I think those three will be following him soon enough."

Nami bowed her head at the news and swallowed thickly to hold back her grief. Kid shifted to wrap his arm around her head, patting her hair in a small gesture of comfort.

"What of the ones we lost at the village?" Kid asked. "Did you bury them?

"We didn't take the time," Wire said with a shake of his head. He turned to point toward the last cart to come into the camp, the contents brimming over the edge and covered with furs. A rut jostled the cart and Nami spotted a limp arm slip out from the furs. "We brought them to bury here."

"We've already built two stone ships. We were waiting for you all to return before performing the ceremony," Kid explained. He eased off her shoulder and turned back toward the field they came from. "Grab the cart. I'll show you the way." He pointed at her in warning. "Nami, stay out of the chests."

She pouted at him. "But what about the grave offerings?"

He glowered. "Have Gunda and Kalifa pick them out. No slipping any gold out for yourself." He ignored her huff as he turned toward Wire. "You got the one I left in that bastard's room, right?"

Wire nodded. "I'll tell Axel to put that one in your tent." He glanced at her. "And to keep Nami away from it."

She huffed again and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm offended that you don't trust me."

Kid chuckled and gave her a gentle shove. "Don't be a petulant brat about it. You'll see what I brought back later." He patted her cheek when she pouted at him. "Be patient, woman. It's a surprise."

"For me?" she asked with an inkling of excitement at the prospect of what treasures he brought for her.

"Yeah, for you," Kid said, with a lopsided grin. "But no peeking. I want to see your reaction when I first give them to you. I don't want that spoiled because you can't keep your greedy hands to yourself."

"I'll behave," she huffed, earning another playful pat before he shoved her off toward the other men waiting to greet her.

"Keep an eye on her," he called toward Axel and then turned to lead Wire off to the grave site.

Nami was left to pout at his back until a heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders. She glanced up to find Axel beside her. His sad eyes and struggled smile told her that he heard of the battle they faced, and who was lost. She forced her own smile as she welcomed his comforting hug. As soon as he released her, she found Halle there to steal her into his crushing embrace.

"I'm glad to see you looking well," the older man whispered into her hair. His hold tightened as he sniffled. "It means he did his duty and surely passed with no regrets."

Halle's words brought tears to her eyes. She blinked, hoping to stave them off, but one still slipped free when he pulled away. He cupped her cheek to wipe the tear away, and forced as charming a smile as he could manage.

"I'll write a song for him to tell everyone back home of his brave deeds protecting our loveliest lady," he assured. "But, in the meantime…" He glanced around her conspicuously. "I can't show you Jarl Eustass' gift for you, _but_ I see no harm in letting you peek at the gold." Her smile came easier, even as he held up a finger in warning. "Don't tell him, though."

"Our little secret," Nami promised, grinning as he took her hand to tug her off to the carts.

Axel spun to follow them with a heavy sigh. "This is why Jarl Eustass doesn't leave you alone with her. She has you wrapped around her little finger."

Nami stuck her tongue out at him while Halle laughed.

"I could say the same about you," he teased. "If I hadn't suggested it, you would have."

Axel looked away grumbling a denial under his breath. It told them enough.

Halle smiled down at her. "Anything to see Lady Nami smile again."

* * *

Kid wasn't fooled by Nami's smiles. She was still mourning, but he commended her effort to move forward. Eventually those smiles would come easier and she would be back to her cheerful self. If she didn't find some normalcy, then Finn's loss might have been in vain. After knowing Nami for barely more than a month, Kid knew all his men were willing to give their lives if it meant her fiery beauty and kindness remained in their otherwise dark world.

For all their boasts of Valhalla and Folkvángr, for all their sacrifices, for all their warring, their people did fear death. It was only natural. When a person died, the living were left behind with a noticeable void that was not easily filled. They're left to wonder if their loved one made it to the gilded halls or eternal battlefield their tales spoke of. They're left to hope that their enemies sat in frigid torment in Hel's dark hall. They're left to fear the return of those that died in torment, rage and vengeance keeping their spirit intact even as their body lay buried in the earth.

Nami was a stark contrast to those grim reminders of their mortality. She held all the spirit of life that they rejoiced. From her gentle compassion to her tempestuous anger, she was a force as strong as the nature they lived in, the world that gave them life, nurtured them, and challenged their very will to survive. She carried in her spirit their desire for wealth, their need for exploration. Her laugh was a nourishment as sweet as fruit, as inviting as a fire in the hearth, an embodiment of the joy that came with ale and song. She wasn't perfect, of course. She was greedy and manipulative and stubborn as an ass. But no mortal was perfect. Their own gods weren't perfect. She didn't need to be perfect, she just needed to be her, and that was more than enough for all of them to willfully depart the world to protect her place in it.

A warrior protected life with death. It was as simple as that.

That day their world was cold and bleak because the little jewel they had grown to cherish was tarnished with grief. If they were gifted with a smile, it was no more than a glint of light through the solemn clouds hanging above them, gone before any could enjoy it. And as they began to carry the dead to the altars, that sun vanished entirely.

Nami's eyes were cold as she helped direct the procession of fallen warriors to their final resting place. She might as well have been made of ice to Kid's eyes. She showed no outward signs of grief in the hard set of her lips, but he knew that wall would crack again soon.

They all gathered around the clearing and the rings of stone that made their ships and would mark the barrows they left behind. As the fallen were brought to lay upon the altars, men and women, friend and family, all made their final goodbyes. Their hair had been rinsed and combed and neatly groomed as they preferred. They had all been dressed in clean or mended garb, with their armor bearing proof that their deaths were met in battle. Swords and axes and shields were placed in their hands, weapons they would need in the great battles they would face in Odin and Freyja's halls. They were given their favored possessions – combs and razors, cloaks and pins, lyres and horns - whatever they had brought on their journey. They shared trinkets from what was gathered in their raid in gratitude for the fallen warriors' aid in claiming their spoils, symbols of the hoards they carried into the afterlife.

Between the two battles, they had lost forty-seven in total. Kid counted each that was placed on their altar, twenty-three to one, twenty-four to the other. He hadn't thought there was much pattern to how Nami chose who went where, but he eventually noticed that one altar appeared to have most of the men he had lost from the camp. He personally lost seven at the camp among the twenty-six that died battling the giant lord, and all seven were piled together, with Finn the last one to be placed.

Kid scrutinized Nami when the boy was brought to the altar. With all the other bodies, she didn't do more than splatter them with a yew branch dipped in the blood of a horse they sacrificed for the ritual and gestured toward which altar they should be placed. Finn had been the last, when each altar held exactly twenty-three and Kid had only just begun to notice the pattern. Nami stopped the men carrying him but didn't splash the boy's face with the offering.

Her cold expression faltered with the tightness of her jaw. She blinked rapidly and he knew she was fighting back her tears. Heat stood at her side, holding the bowl of blood, but said nothing to rush her. She placed the branch she held in the bowl and let it remain as she stepped closer to the boy. She reached out a shaky hand, her stoic frown broke with a struggled smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. He caught sight of her glistening eyes just as she bent over to brush a kiss to the boy's brow. Her wavy, unbound hair fell around her face as she lingered there, whispering words he could not hear.

When she pulled away, she turned toward Gunda who held out a slender gold ringlet she must have found in their hoard. Nami slipped the bracelet onto one of Finn's wrists and crossed his hands back over the sword he would take with him. She finally stepped back to splatter the offering over his face and directed him toward the altar with the rest of his men that died at camp.

Kid was left to wonder the nature of the personal token she gifted to Finn but no other warrior. He thought it might be to appease her guilt over his death. Perhaps it was a gesture of thanks to ensure his spirit passed properly and didn't linger in their world any longer.

Once the bodies were placed, people came forward to set more offerings around the altars. Berries, nuts, slices of horsemeat, fish, and horns of ale. The dead would take the bounties of the earth just as they took the spoils of war to give as gifts to the gods that took them into their halls.

While the offerings were set around the dead, others began to lightly drum on stones, or rapped sticks together, creating a lightly building cacophony broken only by a bellowing horn. Small fires had been built nearby to light makeshift torches of birch and elm branches. Kid took one torch, Franky another, Lucci and Kaku each had their own, and once everyone had stepped back, the four of them went around lighting the kindling and wood at the base of the altars, each man solemn in their task.

As the fire took with quiet crackles, Kid tossed his branch into the flames to add to the kindling and stepped back to stand beside Nami. Her expression had once more turned distant and cold, the light of the fire shining upon dull eyes. They stood in silence as the clearing filled with the scent of burning wood and flowers and berries that hardly masked the smell of burning flesh. Grey smoke turned black when the flames surrounded the dead, and the horns called louder as they watched the plumes carry high up into the sky, the dark pillars carrying their souls off to the halls of the dead.

He barely heard Nami sniffle at his side, the sound almost drowned out by the rapping sticks and bellowing horns and crackling flames. He glanced down to find her stoic mask crumbling as she stared at the fire. Her face glowed orange and glistened with her tears. Her teeth dug into her quivering lip as she tried to restrain her sobs.

He didn't know what to say that he hadn't already told her. He doubted there was anything else he could say. She just needed to grieve, to say her final goodbyes. Hopefully the funeral would bring her some peace and closure once the pyres finally sputtered out, but until then she would give in to her sadness.

He stared forward and held his tongue, but subtly, so no one else would notice, he brushed his hand over hers where it hung at her side. She sniffled louder and bowed her head as he slipped his hand into hers. A sob broke free, and as she squeezed his hand, her grief strangled him, just as it had the day before.

He cleared his throat to hold back his emotions and tugged her closer. She leaned against his side while she kept her head down and wiped at her eyes with her free hand. He could feel her shoulder trembling where it pressed against his arm, but steadily she began to relax, her weight sinking against him. Her sobs eased, turned into quiet sniffles, but she didn't let go of him.

When he laced his fingers through hers, she clung to him as though he were all that she had to keep herself from drowning in grief. She didn't have to hold him so tight, though he didn't mind, because he wasn't about to let her go.

Even if the gods, themselves, tried to tear him from her, he would _never_ let her go.

* * *

It was approaching twilight when he spotted the sod and thatch hovel tucked in the trees. He had nearly missed it, hidden in the shadows and covered with green grass, the home resembled a hill. The thin puffs of grey smoke that rose like wispy tendrils into the sky were all that gave it away.

He steered his grey mare toward it with a gentle kick, urging her into a trot. He had stolen her from the battlefield when the Northmen returned from their raids, taking advantage of the confusion that followed. He knew then that he would not attain the one he sought that day, so it was wisest to cut his losses and leave before trouble could befall him.

He had been warned of a great wolf and he would rather not test that prophecy's accuracy before his plans could bear fruit.

A brown horse sat outside the home, tied to a stake as it grazed through thin sprouts of grass. The troth of water nearby appeared fresh, so he slowed and dismounted to lead his mare through the fence and small yard to join the other horse.

The door swung open as he finished tying his mare up and a dreadfully pale man came crashing out with sword brandished. He was dressed in rotted and soiled rags that may have once been as orange as the sun, but had dulled over time. White hair hung loose and dirty to brush his chin, as pale as his skin after he bathed. It was only by the blackness of his eyes that one could see he was not afflicted with albinism, but that did not stop many from vilifying him as though he were a revenant of death.

"It is only I," he called to the man, brushing back the dark hood of his robes.

The man's sword hung limp as his mouth gaped open in surprise. It didn't last long before it turned into a wide grin and laugh. His joy brought some color to his cheeks as he sheathed the sword and approached.

"My lord," he greeted before engulfing him in a firm hug. The pale man was over a head taller than him and of a much stockier frame, so his embrace was smothering, but warm.

"What have I told you about calling me that here?" he reminded once he was finally released. "We are in Christian lands. We may be far removed from the main land, but there is no telling who here might know of me. They will not look twice at a wandering monk, but if they hear of a title, they'll start asking questions I'd rather not answer."

"Right, I'm sorry," he said, bowing his head.

He consoled the man with a pat on his shoulder as he brushed by to enter the hovel. He could see the fire crackling through the open door and smelled dinner roasting over the flames. He had survived the last week on scraps of dried meats, and if he was lucky he found some berries in his journey. He was famished and almost regretted refusing Urouge's invitation to eat with him, but he didn't want to sit with that man any longer than necessary.

"Lo- _Dumah_ , where is the girl?" his friend asked as he followed him in. He set the sword by the door and hastily bolted it shut, and then set about searching through his meager belongings within the home.

 _Dumah's_ smile was thin as he sat down by the fire, eyeing the skewered fish hovering over it. Their skins were browning nicely. He couldn't wait for a bite. "The druid's prediction was not wrong. I was not able to obtain her this time," he answered.

"Are you certain she's the one we should be searching for?"

He chuckled quietly. "I saw her. I have no doubt in my mind that she is indeed the one we need." His gaze focused on the fire before him, watching the flames dance around the log, as orange and bright as her hair. He had been so close to her. All he needed was to reach out and take her, but it appeared that it was too soon for his plans to begin bearing fruit. He would need to be patient for a while longer. In the end, he knew it would be worth the wait. "Have you heard from the others recently? How are they faring with the Danes?"

His friend grimaced as he came over with a cup and pitcher of goat's milk, pouring out a drink for him. "They sent a messenger last night that only left this morning to tell them you hadn't yet returned. The Danes have no trading expeditions planned that will take them from the isles and made it quite clear that even if they did have such plans, we were not welcome to stow away on their ships."

"Well, I suppose it's good that I thought to lighten Lord Urouge of some of his gold," he remarked as he dug in the folds of his robes. When he found the purse, he held it up and swung it in front of his friend's widening grin. "I am sure they would at least be kind enough to spare one ship for the right price." He tucked the gold away, leaning forward as a wicked thought came to him. "If their greed does not sway them, then I'll just have to convince them to see reason by parting a few of their heads from their shoulders. Northmen, they may be, but they fear death as any mortal man does, especially one so senseless and unnecessary. We will have our ship, one way or another."

"Have you decided where we will head next?" his companion asked.

He sat back and scratched at the dark beard growing thick along his jaw. Mulling over the question, he thought on his informative meeting with a reclusive, Gallic druid in Francia only six months earlier.

Basil Hawkins; the Romans and Franks called him a Wicker Man, a druid that led his people in the burning of massive straw effigies of their enemies. Rumors abound that they sacrificed humans at those rituals, but he had yet to see such a practice take place. Hawkins' followers called him a magician, a sorcerer capable of many magical feats. The favored tales of his magic claimed that he was invincible in battle because he cast his own injuries onto his enemies, weakening them while healing himself. It was a remarkable ability, but it was not the one that had sent him in search of the druid.

He was in search of guidance that no follower of Abraham's God could give. He needed a soothsayer, and the druid was known to produce eerily accurate predictions. His were particularly unique because not all were certainties, but came with a variety of outcomes.

He had found the man in a secluded country home in southeastern Francia. The stone farmhouse appeared non-descript on its exterior, with the only sign that it was inhabited being the torch lit at the door. He was greeted by a man in dark blue robes, a string of beads and animal bones around his neck, and led through cold, dimly lit halls, brought to a back room overlooking the farm's fields that had been left untended for centuries.

A fire crackled in a stone hearth in the corner. A tall man with a single thin braid of brown hair stood before him, a hand on his sword as he scowled. Behind him another man sat at a table, his back to the rest of the room. His long blond hair flowed unbound around his shoulders. His white robes were clean, decorated with ropes and beads colored in rich purple and red. He said nothing as he appeared to toil away at some task, and no one invited him to sit or asked his purpose there. It was odd and unwelcoming, but no one had drawn their sword on him, so he felt it safe to remain.

Eventually the blond man set aside what he had been crafting – a small man made of straw – and spoke. "I find it strange a man dressed in the robes of a monk would seek this place." He shifted to glance at him through a veil of hair. "Though I suppose you are no true monk."

Hawkins turned his back to him again, but waved for him to come forward and join him. The man guarding him stiffened at his approach, his sword scraped against its sheath. The druid halted him with a calmly raised hand.

"I have not foreseen an outcome of this meeting where this man will do me harm," he explained. "You need not fear my death this day."

The guard relaxed and stepped away, but did not take his eyes off him.

When he sat down across from the druid, he was able to see the markings of ink upon his face and neck. Six lines of black ink were drawn vertically on his forehead, three over each brow, and a black cross decorated the hollow of his neck. His eyes were flat and emotionless, entirely unreadable.

"What have you sought me for?" the druid asked as he picked up a dark bag set at his elbow.

"I am looking for a girl. A pagan girl living among the Northmen." He explained who it was he sought as broadly as possible. Hawkins did not appear to need more than a vague summary of her relations and did not ask any further questions.

The druid shook the bag he held and he listened to the muffled clatter of whatever was inside, curious of how his divination worked. He leaned in closer as Hawkins shut his eyes in concentration. He had expected to hear an incantation, a deep, rumbling hum of Gaulish words he did not know. He even anticipated a sacrifice, be it a hen or a hare or a lizard. Instead the druid tossed the contents of the bag out on the table, sending small wooden tiles scattering before them, and set to work arranging them where they fell.

He swallowed a chuckle when he realized the druid was using cleromancy that resembled the old Roman tradition of _sortes_. The druid was drawing lots.

The twenty-four wood tiles were cleanly cut and polished. He glimpsed carvings and paint on those that fell face up. The druid's cross mark could be found on the back of the rest, identical to the others, and painted a dark brown he had thought was normal paint, but upon closer inspection, he realized was dried blood.

"This girl is said to be dead," the druid spoke, his tone hard and flat as he began to flip the tiles that were face down. "In the eyes of man, she does not exist."

"And in the eyes of God?"

Hawkins' gaze shifted to him briefly, his lips barely twitched with a scowl, and then he focused back on his tiles. "In the eyes of _her gods_ , she is not meant to exist to the world of man, lest they take advantage of her."

"She is not _meant_ to exist? That means she lives?"

Another pursed frown marked a moment of silence. "Yes," he finally answered. "She will soon walk a path guided by the gods that love her deeply."

"And will I be able to intercept her on this path?"

Hawkins stared blankly at the tiles before him. He was silent for a long stretch of time, only punctuated by the flipping of one tile after another, the soft clack of wood striking wood.

"Yes," the druid said when he finally felt his patience wearing thin. "There is a god most _sympathetic_ of your plight, and willing to aid you as is necessary."

He scowled. He did not like the idea of consorting with pagan gods, but he had already cast aside all that he had once believed, and sought the guidance of the pagan before him. The means and morals no longer mattered, it was only the end results that held value to him.

"How will this god aid me?"

He was answered with another stretch of silence and the flipping of more tiles.

"Tormented by the shadow of an ever-looming giant, she will flee to merciless and cold waters to be cast upon rocks," the druid said, his gaze focused wholly on his tiles. "Cold and hunger she must endure, wandering unknown lands alone. Until she finds solace and safety within a mighty pack of beasts, and her true saga thus begins."

A long pause. Another tile flipped.

"New adventure stands before her, new challenges she must overcome. Six moons will pass for you before you find her upon the isles to the west with her beasts standing guard. You will see her from afar, but…" The druid flipped another tile. "You must not touch her yet."

"The isles? England?" he asked, receiving a short nod in answer. "Why can I not touch her?"

"If you take her there, the gods will be angry, and Odin will unleash his most ferocious wolf upon you and this world. You will be hunted and devoured within a fortnight. Your plans will fail without ever beginning."

He nodded his understanding, though he was not pleased with such a prediction. He would watch and wait and make his own decision when the time came.

"And after I see her? Where will her path take her next?" he asked, undeterred in piecing together a map of this girl's saga.

Hawkins returned to his tiles, flipping and sorting. His brows furrowed and he let out a curious hum as his fingers hovered over one tile etched with strange words he could only guess were Gaulish.

"She will return to the lands of the north, to the fjords of the beasts that protect her. But there is a dilemma here."

"A dilemma?"

"She will reach a crossroad guided by a rat. One path will become flooded with blood and death and destroy all those around her. Another path will appear pleasant and kind, a promise of a peaceful life, but will inevitably lead to the same ruin. But a third course appears when she resists both hope and fear to forge another way through hardship alone."

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A moment later a follower placed a cloth scroll in his waiting hand. He unfurled the scroll to reveal a map of Francia and the Roman empire, as well as the lands of the Danes and the southernmost territories of the Norse and Svear that settled along the straits. He pointed to the eastern coast, deep within a fjord.

"If she takes either path set before her, predetermined by her Norns, then she is lost to you and you will never see her again," he explained. "But if she forges a new way, defies her bleak fate, you will find her here."

He had a one in three chance of finding her again. He did not like those odds, but if he took her in England and that proved disastrous, then a slim possibility at a second chance was better than dying before having accomplished anything.

"This path comes with a warning for you, though," the druid said as he idly played with a tile. "In England she will see you shrouded in darkness and blood. An angel of death. A lord of flies. You are all that she fears. If you greet her in those same robes, with the same cruel silence, she will flee you and doubt you and you will be struck down by a great bolt from the heavens for the sins in your mind."

"This single girl invokes much wrath from her gods against any that seek her. Tell me, druid, what makes her so special that they would faithfully protect her from me?" His question was met with stony faced silence. "Will you not give me a single clue?"

"She is not meant to exist in the minds of men," was the only answer he received.

He sighed and then reached into the sleeve of his robe, ignoring the guard's stiffened posture as he gripped his sword. The man relaxed when he pulled out a gold coin and held it in front of the druid's bored gaze.

"Just one hint," he urged.

Hawkins' eyes narrowed on the coin and then flit to him as he slowly took it. "You give me gold," he said as he closed his hand around the coin. "I will give you an answer." The druid opened his hand and to his astonishment, the coin was gone, replaced by a small amber stone. Hawkins held the stone in front of him between thumb and forefinger, allowing the pure orange amber to catch the fire as the druid stared at him through it. "She is born of sacrifice and true, everlasting love. She is born of gold and amber and blood. And in time she will see you just as I see you. Such is her gift." He folded the stone back into his hand and squeezed. "And such is her curse," he added lowly as blood flowed out between his fingers and dripped onto the wood tiles in front of him. "Ruin follows close in her wake to those most unworthy."

When the druid opened his hand again, there was no gold or stone remaining, only a pile of ashes he spilled over the table.

"If you see her a second time," the druid continued on, flipping one last tile. "You will only sow seeds. You must be wary of the men around her and wait for the next crossroad she comes to before you can reap your rewards."

"And I suppose I will have to hope she forges a third way again?"

"No, there will be no third path. She will either choose life or death. If she chooses death, you will have her immediately. If she chooses life, you will have to wait a winter for her," Hawkins advised.

He scratched his chin as he wondered if he would have the patience to wait over a year to see his plans through. He supposed it was best not to rush. Nothing of value was every done quickly.

"I have one more word of advice," the druid said as he slid his tiles back into their bag. "I am acquainted with those you mean to anger, the Norman house that shares blood with this girl." Hawkins' gaze held his, dark eyes hard as stone. "Do not rely on the mercy of a dragon, for that creature possesses no such trait."

He chuckled at the warning. "Avoid wolves and gods and dragons. Any other advice you have for me, then? Perhaps I should be cautious of a bear? A giant? A dwarf? Perhaps an elf? Or a monkey? Oh, you did mention something about flies, I suppose I should avoid those, too."

"You laugh as if my warnings are in jest," Hawkins said flatly. "I do not jest. You would be wise to fear all such creatures for her gods will send any beast or being for you when they learn of the trick that is afoot. Even Loki will abandon you to the punishment brought forth in your life."

"Let them send whatever they wish. So long as _his_ world burns, I care not what happens to me," he bit out, his thin humor lost as he stood to leave. He had the guidance that he came for.

He remembered Hawkins' last words that echoed through the hall on his way out.

"Then go north. She will seek for you herself."

He smiled at his pale companion across the fire and plucked a fish from the flames. "You and the others will go to the Danelands, I will go north to the fjords. If I do not find you before the winter, then come for me at winter's end."

"Yes, my Lo- _Dumah,_ " his friend corrected.

He bit into his fish, content with his plan. He felt a flake get stuck in the coarse hairs of his beard and a thought struck him. "When we are done eating, bring me some water and a razor. And we'll need to find new clothes when we reach York. I must don a kinder face and shed my false name before I can finally meet the girl with amber hair."

"What name do you mean to take this time? Since you will be in pagan lands, it should be safe to use your own name."

He bowed his head and shook it, hiding his pained smile behind loose locks of midnight hair. "There is only one name that suits a kind, trustworthy man… And that name is not mine."

* * *

The afternoon of mourning turned into an evening of revelry as all the Northmen rejoiced for their fallen friends, celebrating their entrance into Odin and Freyja's halls. They found joy in the stories they had to remember their short time with those that passed. No matter how sad they were to see their friends and family leave their world, they would not let their grief tarnish their memories.

They ate well that night and drank amidst raucous song that harmonized less and less with every cup of stolen wine emptied. There were multiple fires for everyone to sit around, and each one had their own singer to lead them in celebration, and each singer differed in what they sung. It was cacophonous, but as out of sync as it was, Nami found it warm and lighthearted and soothed the ache in her heart.

She sat with Kid at one fire, listening to Franky tell stories about the men he lost. While Kid sat on a chest packed with gold, Nami sat on the ground, curled beneath his furs as she leaned against his leg. His hand idly comb through her hair, a gentle comfort she was more grateful for than he probably knew. His presence alone had been a comfort to her that afternoon, a steady rock for her to cling to while her sadness overwhelmed her. She hadn't strayed far from his side since the funeral. She hadn't wanted to, and he didn't seem willing to let her get out of his reach for long.

The wine they brought back from their raiding was rich and sweet and she happily drowned her sorrows in a cup that never seemed to go empty. As the night went on, her cheeks flushed with warmth and her eyelids grew heavy though sleep was far from her reach. Her smiles came easier, her laughter less pained, as she listened to every bittersweet tale of those she had known so briefly.

"I remember when you first came to Álasund, Kalifa," Franky said, beginning another story as he gestured toward the blonde lounging near Nami's other side. "And you came by the shipyards to greet Kaku while I was there with my men, and Olav whistled at you…"

"He did more than whistle," Kalifa corrected, her brow arched sharply.

" _And_ made a grab at you," Franky added, waving the interruption off. "You caught his hand and twisted it until he was screaming bloody murder."

"Two dislocated fingers will do that," she said with an arrogant snort.

"And then you punched him."

"I didn't _punch_ him," she argued, turning away to hide a crooked smile as she took a sip of wine from her cup. "I kicked him in the face and broke four of his teeth, then again between the legs to make sure the lesson got through to _both_ of his heads." Some men grimaced, while others threw their heads back, bellowing with laughter. Kid's thigh shook beneath Nami's head as he joined with those laughing. Kalifa glanced toward her with a conspiratorial flicker of her gaze in Kid's direction as she leaned in closer. "Olav was nothing but a perfectly civil gentleman with me after that, with a healthy dose of fear that made him flinch anytime a man whistled. You might want to consider that for the future."

Nami giggled as Kid's amusement waned into a low growl when he picked up on Kalifa's suggestion. His hand covered her ear as he held her tight to his thigh.

"Stop giving her ideas," he snapped. "She's violent enough with me as it is."

"I am merely sharing my experience with a woman I feel could benefit from what I've learned. Men are dogs. Sometimes they need a heavy hand to properly train them," Kalifa argued, brushing off Kid's snarled curse in response with an arrogance that only seemed to irritate him more. His leg was tense against her, and she had no doubt he would attack the other woman if she didn't sit between them.

Nami sighed. "Kid, calm down."

He growled one more time, but backed down with a huff. He took a long swallow of wine from the gold chalice he claimed among the treasure, and forced himself to relax.

"What about you, Kid? Tell us a story about one of your men," Franky prompted, further distracting the Jarl from his anger. "We haven't heard much about that young one," he suggested. "Finn, right? It seemed he was important to your lady there. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing a happy story about him."

Nami sank against Kid while trying to hide her frown in the furs draped over her. His hand combed through her hair as he hummed in thought. She shivered when a finger tickled behind her ear and glanced up to see him staring at her.

"Finn ever tell you how I met him?" he asked quietly. She shook her head, and Kid's lips curled in a lopsided grin as he turned to the others. "You know I warred against Drafn's last Jarl a couple of years ago. A week into it, I hear complaints from some of the villagers about a thief sneaking around. Been going on for months, just little odds and ends stolen, maybe some food from their garden, glass beads from one of the crafters, a knife, a few coins. Never took much, but it was annoying and could become more troublesome. The former Jarl hadn't cared enough to do anything about it, none of his stuff was taken and after a while it had stopped, so it wasn't important anymore. But after I took charge, the thief came back, and I wasn't going to sit around and let this little shit keep up his mischief.

"One day, I'm going around trying to get information on this thief, find out what everyone knows. Offered rewards to anyone who caught them, whatever it took to end this quickly. When I came up empty handed, I headed on back to the hall to see if Killer or my other men learned something. I'm walking by the stables when I hear some rustling inside, but I don't think much of it, probably just a horse, and it's freezing cold out, so I just want to be back inside by the fire and keep walking." He paused to sip his wine. "Next thing I know, a kid comes bolting out of the stables and slams right into my back. Now, this brat was _tiny_ , barely reached my hip." He held his hand up to approximate his height and laughed. "But he hit me _hard_ , and I'm pissed. Then I feel it… A fucking knife, right in my ass."

The men around the fire roared with laughter. Nami tried to stifle a giggle, but Kid heard well enough to draw his attention to her, his grin widened as he gave her head a firm pat.

"Still got the scar if you ever want to see it," he suggested with a playful wink. She puffed her cheeks and smacked his leg, but her annoyance broke quickly as she laughed louder, Kid joining her with his own chuckle. He turned back to the camp as their laughter died down. "You can only guess how angry _that_ made me. I was ready to snap the idiot's neck right then and there. So, I snatched the kid by his neck, ignored the damn knife still sticking out of me, and hauled him off the ground. He takes one look at my face and panics, starts stammering a bunch of apologies that I can barely understand. He's terrified and shaking and on the brink of tears and I'm just thinking about how fucking pathetic he looks. Stabs me in the back, or tries to, and then turns into a quivering mess as soon as he's caught. Thought he was going to piss himself, he was so scared.

"And I'm _this_ close to murdering this brat when he says _one_ _name_ I manage to understand through all his blubbering. It's the name of the former Jarl. I calm down enough to drag him back to the hall so I can interrogate him where my bleeding ass wasn't about to be frozen solid, too." Kid sat up straight and pointed at Hróarr across the fire. "And then that bastard there takes one look at the boy and suddenly _I'm_ in trouble! His Jarl has a knife still stuck in him, and he starts lecturing me about being cruel to orphans. I hadn't even done a damn thing to boy yet, but everyone's painting me as the bad guy. If Killer hadn't been there, I might have taken my anger out on him, too. Would have started another fucking war over this mess."

"He was filthy and crying and you were obviously irate, likely beyond reason, of course we all assumed you did something to him. You're not exactly known for your even temper," Hróarr argued, but the older man was waved off.

"I can control my temper just fine," he huffed. Nami snorted a laugh that earned a surly growl from Kid. She grinned up at him, unfazed with his show of anger. "You know firsthand that I can control it, damn it. Don't take his side."

"But I've never stabbed you, Kid."

"Fuck that, you have too!"

"It was an accident!"

"You've thrown shit at me, too, and I never did anything to you!"

"You were being an ass! You deserved to have something thrown at you!"

"And you shoved me off the boat!"

"Again, you were being an ass! And you've thrown me off a boat, too!"

"You enjoyed that." He brushed her off with a wave.

"As amusing as this lover's spat is," Franky interjected as he attempted to muffle his laughter behind a fist. Nami's cheeks heated at his words, but her voice strangled in her throat before she could correct him. "Can we get on with the story?"

Kid hissed, but relaxed into his seat again. His fingers returned to their idle brushing of her hair. Still embarrassed by Franky's remark on their _relationship_ , she thought to make Kid stop the intimate gesture. But as his blunt nails scratched over her scalp, she decided she didn't want him to stop, not when the touch was so soothing for her. He didn't care what people thought of their relationship, and she could admit it had become strangely complicated to describe their friendship over the time since they left Drafn, and even there they had plenty of rumors circling the village about what the nature of their relationship was. Correcting one person, ending one behavior that led to that impression, wasn't going to change anything.

She might argue that Kid was only a friend, but even she knew they had been dancing around something else that she would rather not think about.

"So, Hróarr gets the kid by the fire. Starts feeding him while I'm _still_ bleeding out."

"You were not going to die from a knife in your ass," Hróarr interjected.

"That's beside the point!" Kid yelled amidst the laughter around the fire. He growled when he saw that there was no sympathy to be had and waved them all off. "Anyway, when Heat _finally_ comes around to help with my damn wound, I start interrogating the little shit while he's wolfing down all of _my_ food. Turns out the kid's the thief I've been looking for. He was stealing to take care of his sick brother, only family he had left after the last Jarl murdered their parents and took their farm. His brother had died when the thievery stopped, and he left the village to bury his brother's remains and grieve. When he returned, he had vowed to kill the Jarl for robbing him of his family, even if he died doing so. Unfortunately for him, I had gotten to the Jarl while he was absent from the village. And since it was still winter, he had only seen me wandering the village covered head to toe in furs, mistook me for that bastard Jarl until he finally saw my face."

Kid's grin turned proud. "I respected Finn's resolve enough to overlook the attempted murder. His anger was well justified in my mind, and he apologized for his mistake. Hróarr agreed to take him under his supervision, and have him work around the village to help pay off his debt to the people he stole from. Within a month, that boy was putting on weight, training with a sword, and already making himself popular with the women." Kid laughed. "All of them forgave him for stealing from their gardens, and I know quite a few started sneaking him treats any time he came around. That brat could have grown up happy and fat on their charity, but never once stopped working hard. He promised me that he'd get strong enough to take me down if I ever turned as corrupt as the last Jarl. His knife wouldn't miss again."

Franky raised his cup on the other side of the fire. "Then the gods are fortunate to have him. Odin will rejoice at having such a dedicated man in his great army," he said.

Everyone raised their cups in a chorus of agreement, except for Nami. She sank against Kid's leg, hiding her somber frown in his furs.

They might all worship many gods, but Nami knew Kid and his men revered Odin most of all. Freyja's hall and field were coveted by warriors, and often held in equal or even greater regard to Odin's Valhalla, but for these men she doubted they would be as excited about joining Freyja's army as they were about joining Odin's. All men knew that Freyja had her pick of the fallen, that she took half while Odin took the rest. It was an honor to be chosen by either god, but some men still had their hopes set on joining one after they departed from their realm. She didn't know how Kid, or any of his men, would react if they knew their friend was with _her_ gods, not theirs.

A tug on her hair drew her gaze up to Kid. He stared at her as he tilted back his cup, his brow cocked in silent question. She forced a smile for him that only seemed to make him frown.

"I think I've had enough drink for one night," she said as she pushed his furs off. "I'm going to get some rest."

She handed his cloak to him as she stood, ignoring his scowl while she said her good-nights to the others. Gunda and Kalifa offered to join her, but she waved for them to stay and enjoy the night with the others. Kid wasn't deterred as easily and stood to follow her off to the tents. When she turned for the women's tent, Kid grabbed her hand, heedless of her glare as he dragged her toward his tent. She sighed in defeat and hurried her steps so he wouldn't have to pull so hard.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly as he ushered her into his tent. "Did the story about Finn upset you? I was hoping it would help cheer you up," he huffed, gently pushing her toward his bedding while he went to light a candle.

She turned to him with a pained smile. "It wasn't the story. I'm glad you shared that." She sighed as she lowered herself onto the furs. Kid eased down to crouch in front of her, burying a pained grimace as he looked at her expectantly. "Finn is not in Valhalla tonight."

Kid's eyes widened. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"I saw the valkyrie that took him. I know her… _knew_ her in life." She cleared her throat and struggled to keep her smile. "The shieldmaiden that gave her life when Arlong came, Bellemere was the one who took Finn for Freyja's hall."

Kid placed his hand on hers, and she dared to look at him from the corner of her eye. He wore a frown, but she couldn't say if he was angry or not. He seemed concerned.

"Why should that upset you?" he asked.

"I'm afraid it will upset _you_ ," she explained. "You and your men claim Odin's spirit in battle. It would make sense that you would rather go to Valhalla, not Fólkvangr."

Kid glared for a moment before it broke into a laugh. "That's a stupid thing for you to be worrying over. Would I rather drink with Odin when I die? Of course. But to sit in the company of Freyja, to fight in her field of endless battle… I'd be just as honored to be chosen by her. My men are the same. Some might prefer Odin's hall to Freyja's, but we're mortal and when the time comes to be chosen, that fate is no longer in our hands. We'll go wherever the gods will it." He squeezed her hand, leaning in as he grinned at her. "And knowing Finn as well as I do, he's probably far happier in the company of _your_ family than any other gods. That little charmer is probably ecstatic to meet Freyja and fight for her. He'll fight even harder in battle knowing that she is watching."

Nami laughed quietly. He had a point there.

"Do you believe that all of us who die fighting for you will be taken to Fólkvangr?" Kid asked.

"I'm not sure. I only know that Finn was chosen because I saw Bellemere…" She laughed again, this time it came strangled with renewed sorrow. Kid shifted closer to brush his fingers over her cheek. She leaned into the touch, sighing at the comfort she never expected to gain from him. "She was even more beautiful than I remembered."

"All the men in the pyre with Finn, did they go with him?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I can't be certain, but I chose them to share the pyre with him in the hopes that they were all together. I didn't want Finn to be without his friends."

"And the bracelet?"

"To thank him for all he had done for me, and to promise that his sacrifice would not be in vain. I sent him off with a message for my family and Bellemere, asking that they take care of him, and swearing that I would do everything in my power not to let his death, or any other hold me back." She looked at Kid, hardening her eyes with resolve. "I won't look back. I won't run away. I'll keep fighting and getting stronger. I'll do whatever it takes, make whatever sacrifices I have to, but I _will_ see that my ancestor's prophecy comes to pass. I won't fail you or anyone else I care for again."

Kid's grin slowly grew and she didn't miss the pride shining bright in his eyes as he cupped her cheek. "You are a remarkable woman," he praised as he gave her cheek a firm pat and then pulled away. "I think you've earned your gift." She straightened her back at the reminder, prompting him to laugh as he stood. "Knew that would get you excited."

She watched eagerly as he went to the far corner of his tent and pulled a wool blanket off a chest. She was already imagining what sort of treasures he brought back for her as he grasped a handle and dragged the chest toward her. She immediately reached for it once it was in front of her, but he slapped his hand over the lid to stop her from opening it.

"I already know what you're hoping to find with that greedy look on your face," he said. "I'll tell you now, there's no gold in here."

She slumped in obvious disappointment. Kid rolled his eyes.

"I still think you'll appreciate what I brought you. They're treasures of a different sort," he explained as he finally withdrew his hand and waved for her to open the chest.

With a sigh over her dashed hopes, she pushed the lid open, and then gaped at what was inside.

"Parchment?" She leaned over to dig through the chest, curious of all the papers inside. There was a whole stack of blank parchment to one side, while loosely bound books and scrolls were haphazardly tossed on top of them.

"This way you can draw your maps if you wish," he explained. "And here, I found this on that knight's desk." He leaned in to snatch up one of the books and hand it to her. "It looks like he has some maps drawn out of the region here, with some notes."

Nami took the journal and flipped it open, furrowing her brows at the letters. "I can't read English."

"Killer can. He'll help you translate," Kid said while she idly turned the pages. There were maps of roadways, some rivers and channels. One page looked to have a sketch of a coast with words jotted alongside it. That might be helpful if she wished to draw some of the coastline she observed as they sailed by it. "If it's no use to you, then we can use them for kindling."

She shook her head and looked up to smile. "No. I can find a use for these. And the clean parchment was a good idea. I've tried to draw on plain leather, and sometimes it suffices, but I never feel that the lines flow right with the ink. It takes more work than it does on parchment. Thank you. It was very thoughtful of you, Kid."

He openly gloated as she began to dig through the chest more, curious what else he had brought back for her. She laughed when she found an ornate silver box, proving there was at least some real treasure to be had in there. It was unfortunate that it was empty, but it was pretty.

"You've been complaining about your jewelry being left out in your room," Kid explained. "You mentioned that you wanted a box to keep your things in. I had thought about carving a wooden one for you, but when I saw that, I thought you might appreciate a silver one more."

"Either would have been perfect," she said as her fingers traced the floral pattern weaving over the lid. "I love it."

She carefully set the box aside, giggling as Kid straightened with pride. It was no wonder why he wanted to present this chest to her himself. He obviously wanted to hear her approval over what he gathered.

She hummed as she continued her search and came upon a larger tome, bound with an ornately carved wooden cover. Kid grunted, leaning over to watch as her hand traced over the swirling latticework of the cover.

"I meant to toss that one back," he mused. "Killer looked at it. Said it was in French, something about their saints and holy men. He knows Frankish better than French, so he couldn't be certain. I didn't think it would be of importance to you."

Curious, she opened the book to see what was written inside. Her eyes went wide at the first page and she looked up at Kid in shock.

"What is it?" he asked, confused at her reaction.

"This isn't about their holy men," she said, further confusing him. "It's a book on the noble lineages in Francia." She went back to flip through the pages, scouring through the lists and stories within them. "There is mention of their holy men and saints, but most of these stories are about their nobles. I'm surprised it's not written in the older Frankish. It must be a recent copy."

"Wait… You understand that book?" Kid asked, moving closer to sit at her right side and lean over her shoulder. "And why are you more excited about a book on lineage than parchment for your maps?"

She frowned at the pages as she paused in her reading. "Arlong focused all of his raiding in Francia. After his first raid, he brought back a slave that knew our language and could tutor me in Frankish. She was with us for six months before I tried to help her flee. She offered to take me with her. We didn't get far before Arlong caught us. He killed my tutor, then brought home new slaves to tutor me until I became too close to them and he feared another escape attempt and killed them, too. That went on for six years, until I knew enough of both Frankish and French to no longer need teaching."

"And your excitement over this particular text?" he prompted, turning to stare at her expectantly.

She swallowed thickly. "My father was a Norman. My mother… _Bellemere_ , she told me he had been in a lower house of Normandy, very distantly related to the first Duke, Rollo."

Kid sat back with a grunt. "You said Arlong intended to undo the duchy from within, and that you were the key to that," he mused. "A daughter born to a pagan mother outside of marriage… That would certainly create some unrest. But women mean little in the rules of inheritance in Francia. Other than creating some gossip, I can't see your existence being any threat to them. And I'm guessing your father's dead, anyway, so they could just call you an impostor and be done with you."

Nami snorted. "As I've told Arlong more times than I can count, but once he has his mind set on something, it's impossible to sway him." She nudged Kid with her shoulder. "It seems I'm destined to be surrounded by obstinate men."

He laughed as he slung his arm around her. "Maybe, but at least I treat you better, right?"

"Most of the time," she said dismissively, focusing back on the book as he let out a frustrated growl. "You have your moments that make me want to strangle you, but otherwise you are far kinder to me, if no one else." He huffed beside her and sunk against her side. She looked back up at his annoyed glower and smiled for him. "And you are surprisingly thoughtful. When you want to be." His ire waned as she leaned in to brush a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you for all of this. Though it doesn't count toward your debts, since I do remember specifying chests of _gold_."

He hissed, jerking his face away from her. "I can't just give you chests of gold, Nami. I need to split the hoard among everyone, you know. I can only get away with this because no one else gives a damn about parchment and books. At least give me some credit for the jewelry box."

Nami hummed. "I suppose it could suffice in place of the silk I asked for. But it is definitely not valuable enough to offset a whole chest of gold."

Kid grumbled as he stood from the bed. She watched him go to his war chest and dig around inside. When he found what he was looking for, he returned to the bed with a hand hidden behind his back and graced her with a devious smile.

"What are you hiding?" she asked, setting aside her book to peek around him.

He tucked his hand under his leg. "It's something shiny and gold," he teased as her gaze fixed on his hidden hand. "But I'm not sure I want to part with it when I doubt you'll let it stand in place of your stupid debt."

She pouted. "I'll consider it if you let me see it."

Kid hummed as he leaned in closer to her. "I still don't know. It's incredibly valuable to me. Far more valuable than a whole chest of gold."

"That isn't possible," she argued, leveling him with a glare. "Unless you are hiding a king's crown in that hand, I cannot imagine anything being worth that much."

"It's sentimental value."

She glowered, unwilling to believe that. "Let me see it."

His eyes flickered with mischievous amusement as he slowly drew his hand out. The clatter of a chain broke her gaze from his to watch a gilded cross fall from his hand to swing back and forth on its gold chain. She gasped and made to grab at it, but Kid held it from her reach with a quiet chuckle.

"You asked to see it, not to touch it," he teased, grinning at her sulky pout.

"It's only a cross. What makes it worth so much to you?" she asked, huffing in annoyance at his game.

"Because it's magic," he explained.

She raised her brow, curious and confused. He brought the cross close enough for her to snatch it, though he didn't relinquish his hold on the chain. He curled the chain around his fingers to pull the cross toward him, tugging her hand with it. She paid no mind to him as she examined the gilded cross. It was beautiful. The luster of gold shone and the jewels glittered in the meager candlelight. But as beautiful as it was, she didn't think it was any better than the gold chalice Kid had been drinking from all night, or the bracelet she gifted to Finn for his grave. It was another piece of treasure, another trinket. She certainly wanted it, but it was not worth what he swore it was.

"It doesn't feel like magic," she said, her assessment made.

"Maybe the magic isn't for you. Maybe it's only meant for me," he reasoned as his fingertips slid over hers until they found the smooth amber stone in the middle of the cross. "I went to sleep with this in my hand, and I dreamed of the Saxon giant that meant to take you. If not for that, I wouldn't have returned to you when I did."

She looked at him with wide eyes, but saw no lie on his face. Her breath grew short as his fingers caressed the back of her hand and he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Why should I part with a treasure that helped me protect a far greater treasure?" he asked, his voice rough and low. The question took her breath away. She could only sit there in dumb silence, staring at his heavy gaze. "If you still wish to have this, but don't believe it's worth canceling some of my debt, then perhaps we can make another arrangement?"

She blinked from her stupor. "Another arrangement?" she asked uncertainly.

Kid leaned in and she failed to fight off a shiver as his breath fanned over her ear. His raspy chuckle made her entire body tingle with a strange lightness she had never known before. She was confused, but could not say that the feeling was unpleasant.

"I have heard many tales of how Freyja acquired her beloved necklace, Brísingamen," he whispered suggestively. "My favorite is how she agreed to pay the dwarves when they would accept no silver or gold in exchange for the necklace."

Nami stiffened as understanding dawned on her. She tightened her grip on the cross while she remained perfectly still and calculated exactly how much she was going to make him pay for this.

"You probably know the stories better than I do, Nami. Did she really sleep with them? Did each dwarf get one night with her, or did they all share her together for the four nights?" he asked.

She let out a long breath as he ran his nose over the sensitive skin behind her ear, and relaxed, melting into him. She turned her head to brush her lips over his ear, smiling at the quiet groan he let slip. "Are you saying that you will give me this necklace in exchange for my body?" she whispered.

"One treasure for another," he rasped quietly as his breath grew heavy. "I think that's a fair trade."

Nami shoved him back on the furs and smiled at his pained yelp.

"Not so rough, Kitten," he groaned, gasping for a breath as he arched his back and searched for a comfortable position. The cross remained clasped in his right hand as she pinned it to the bed, gently weaving her fingers through his.

"Kitten?" she asked with a sly smile as she slid a leg over his waist and straddled him.

His gaze fought to remain on her face, but he failed and let his eyes sweep over her as she sat atop him. His free hand hooked on the back of her thigh and dug in tight to hold her there. She could feel how much he appreciated the position they were in as his hips rocked up, brushing his clothed length against her.

He finally met her eyes again as she laid down on him, pressing her breasts tight to his chest. He gave her a crooked smile as his hand brushed up higher on her leg until it came to rest on her hip.

"Well, you are the cute little stray I picked up out in the woods," he explained. "And you just pounced on me like a cat. I think the name fits."

Nami giggled, leaning in to tease her nose over his. "I see… I think I like it."

"Good." His eyes crinkled as his smile grew and he picked his head up with obvious intent. She drew away just enough to keep his lips from touching hers and snickered when he groaned in disappointment. "Don't tease me," he warned.

"I'm willing to make a trade, Kid, but I'm still not sure it's worth the price you've set," she whispered. "Four nights is too much."

His arm slid around her waist as he tried to steal another kiss. She turned her face away so that his lips only grazed her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to ignore the tingling of her skin at the gentle caress. "I'll take one night," he offered.

His breath smelled of the wine they drank, and she wondered if that was what emboldened him. He had been so guarded about his attraction to her, the liquor must be to blame.

"All you want is one night?" she asked, shutting her eyes as he lightly kissed her jaw.

"If it's all I can have, then it's what I will I take," he said, voice low and hushed.

Her fingers played over his. She hid her smile as his lips grazed up to her ear. His movements were slow and lazy, maybe even hesitant as he waited for her to accept the offer.

"So you'll take whatever I'm willing to give?" she asked as she slowly turned her face toward him.

"Anything," he rasped against her cheek.

She pulled away enough to meet his hooded gaze, wavering between her lips and her eyes. His hand slid up her back as she leaned in, holding her firm against his chest.

"Then, if you're willing to take _anything_ ," she whispered, fluttering her lips over his with every word spoken. A groan rumbled in his throat as he rolled his hips up to press the thick bulge in his trousers flush between her legs. Her body warmed at the touch, but she forced herself to ignore the pleasant flip in her stomach as she grazed her teeth over his lower lip.

And then she bit down hard.

Kid froze beneath her and his eyes went wide. His hold around her back slackened in his surprise, and his fingers loosened around the cross and chain he gripped. Before he could understand what was happening, she tore herself off him and leaped away with her prize in hand. She spun with a laugh as she held the necklace in front of her, rejoicing at the pretty jewels that were now hers.

Kid was so still, she didn't think he was breathing, but that wasn't her problem anymore. She got what she wanted, and hopefully taught him a lesson about suggesting such a thing to her. As if she would have sex with a man for one measly necklace, even if he swore it was magic. Even if her grandmother _supposedly_ slept with four dwarves in exchange for her necklace, Nami was not her. She had limits, not to mention a curse hanging over her head.

Her celebration ended when Kid released a long, hissing breath. She glanced over to watch his body go limp as he covered his face with his hands.

"You fucking teasing bitch," he growled.

"Don't you dare call me that," she yelled, stomping toward him to kick his leg. He growled and rolled away, so she kicked him again. "You're the asshole who had the _gall_ to proposition me for sex!" She kicked him again, even harder than before. He groaned and tried to escape, so she stood on the furs and continued to kick at his back and side until he was yelping in pain. "You selfish, lecherous, pig! You have no right to be angry with me!"

"I was joking!" he argued, curling in on himself as she slammed her heel into his shoulder.

"You disgusting liar! Do you really take me for a fool?" she screamed as she continued her assault. "I know damn well that you would have taken advantage and happily seduced me if I showed even a little bit of willingness! You jackass! I have never been more furious with you!"

"Stop kicking me, woman!" he hollered, releasing his head to swat at her foot when she made to strike again. She crouched down to smack the side of his face instead. "Ow! Stop it! I'm sorry! Just stop beating me!" She hit him again. "I said I was sorry!"

With another stifled shriek, she drew away and left him to nurse his new bruises while she tossed her gifts back into the chest.

"I want that cross back," he dared to say as he pushed himself to sit up. He clutched his side and met her simmering glare with his own.

"Absolutely not," she yelled, holding the necklace away from him. "This barely covers a fine for that idiotic stunt you just pulled with me."

"I said I was just joking about that! I didn't expect you to act on it!"

"But you were more than willing to take advantage when I did! Anyway, you agreed to give it to me in exchange for _anything_! I think you got more than you bargained for," she argued, sneering at him before turning back to the chest to close the lid.

He growled in frustration, her only warning for what came next. She shrieked when she found herself on her back, pinned beneath Kid.

"What are you doing!? Get off of me," she hissed, shoving at him until he snatched her by both hands and pushed them over her head.

"I've changed my mind," he growled. "I'm not satisfied with that exchange."

She stilled beneath him and gasped in shock. "Kid…" she said in warning, uncertain what to make of his feral grin.

He slammed his lips to hers, cutting her off before she could level any threats against him. His kiss was firm, filled with his frustration and barely contained anger. He pressed his lips to hers hard enough to make them sore and held himself there while she laid perfectly still beneath him. He didn't move, merely waited until she slowly relaxed, falling limp with submission.

He gripped her wrists in one hand as his kiss eased, molding his lips to hers. A warm hand cupped her cheek, tangled with strands of her hair that fell over her face. His lips moved softly against hers with another kiss, coaxing her into returning it as her lips tingled just as her skin had when he kissed her jaw and cheek. His lips teased hers apart with a new kiss, and she gasped when his tongue darted out. With a muffled groan, Kid tilted his head and deepened the kiss with that opening, devouring her with insatiable need as she gave in to the heady feeling consuming her.

She didn't know what to make of the heat flooding through her, even as she shivered beneath him. Her cheeks burned and her stomach flipped and fluttered. The feeling only grew stronger when her tongue hesitantly met his, and Kid responded with a pleasured groan as he sank into her. Her hands clenched, desperate to touch him when their kisses turned hungry. His hand trailed down her neck, and she arched into him as it came to rest over her breast, making it tingle and ache for his touch. She moaned when he kneaded the mound and the pulsing ache moved to settle between her legs.

There was no denying it anymore. She wanted him, desired him as much as he desired her.

She whimpered when his touch abruptly left her. His hand slammed onto the fur at her side, and he tore his lips from hers with a gasp.

"Damn it," he hissed while panting for air. He bowed his head to hide his eyes behind dark red locks. "Shit…"

She was too shocked at the sudden loss of his affection to find her words. Her breath was strangled in her throat, and her whole body ached for more of his touch. When he lifted his head to meet her gaze, she clearly saw the struggle playing out over his face, lips curling with a pained sneer as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.

"Don't test me," he rasped. "Don't toy with me like that… _ever again_ …" he added, his voice straining through a growl. "Just… _don't_. Or I won't be able to stop myself."

Her eyes widened as he pushed himself off her. He sat up with a groan and ran his hands over his face. She could only lay there, blinking in her stupor as she watched him pull away from his furs and stumble to his feet. He refused to look at her as he trudged toward the entrance of his tent.

"You can keep that damn cross, but you can't stay in my tent," he growled. "You sleep with the women from now on. I'll leave in the morning to deliver our prisoner. I don't want to see your fucking face again until I return. Understood?"

He didn't wait for her to answer as he stormed out, leaving her there in his bed, too stunned to move. Barked orders to Killer and Gunda outside broke her from her trance. She let out a shaky breath and brought her fingers to her lips, running over the sore flesh that still felt the ghost of his kiss. The consequences of what just occurred slowly dawned on her.

She had just kissed Eustass Kid. She had just willingly crossed a line with him that they never should have been near in the first place. He was supposed to be her protector, her friend, nothing more than that. No matter the attraction he had for her, or the warm affection she had for him, they were never supposed to cross that line. But they did, and she knew there was no going back.

Nothing would ever be the same between them again.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** So, with the funeral, everyone knows about the burning ship ceremony, it's like the most famous, iconic image for Viking funerals. But to actually burn a ship every time a person died - that is expensive. That particular ceremony was usually reserved for wealthy, extremely important people (Earls, Kings, Queens, etc), and they were often still buried in that ship, rather than set out to sea (see: Oseberg Ship). It was more common to inter the dead, along with their grave goods, in burial mounds marked by a 'stone ship' - a ring of rocks in the shape of a longship. Cremation was also common, combined with the burial, because it was said that if they built the pyre right, the column of smoke would help lift the departed souls to the next realm._

 _As for the ceremony itself - sacrifices were a must, both to appease the dead and the gods taking them. The Norse had a fear of the dead coming back as ghosts. There were even special burials done for any person who died with a known grievance or desire for revenge - they nailed their feet and hands into the ground to keep them from potentially returning. They would even dig up a body, burn it, and rebury it if they were plagued by misfortune after a death, fearing that it was the person's soul causing the calamity. They were very superstitious, obviously._

 _Seven days after the person died, the people celebrated with funeral ale and a feast. Obviously I had them perform this part on the same night, though technically their party was not the same since they didn't have specifically 'funeral ale' and there was no sorting of potential inheritances. But this is a funeral while in a foreign land, not one performed at home, so I feel it's forgivable to alter that in this instance._

 _As for 'the monk' - I think it is clearly obvious now who he is, yet he does not want me to use his actual name at this point. He seems to like the whole air of mystery thing, because he's a dork. If his interaction with his friend (and that friend's description) was somehow not obvious enough, the name he will eventually present himself with when he shows up again later will just keep making it more obvious, lol._

 _By the way, I enjoyed giving Hawkins a cameo appearance in this. I hadn't planned to, but then I realized he works very well as a guide for 'the monk's' direction. He'll likely show up again near the end. But seriously, I could not resist using him and making him a druid (look up 'celtic wicker man' and it'll be clear just how perfect he is for that roll). I love when I have an idea before I do research on it, and then find out that it works perfectly. The only difficulty I had for him was how to translate his tarot reading to this time period since tarot cards did not exist, but cleromancy did, so I felt that 'sortes' was an adequate replacement and still held a similar feel to Hawkins' tarot._

 _And I hope you all enjoyed the sexual tension I put in at the end (to put that mildly). They weren't actually supposed to kiss (let alone make out) so soon, but they really have been dancing around their feelings (some more obviously than others) and it all just kind of came to a breaking point in this chapter. And yes, Kid needs to start calling her Kitten in this because it has been a struggle restraining him from using that nickname from the beginning. He needed to work his way to that point first._

 _I look forward to your thoughts on this chapter! :)_


	19. Chapter 19

_Warning: Gore and violence content in this chapter._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Journeys_

Kid couldn't believe his own idiocy. He wished he could blame his actions on Nami. The woman had shocked him with her bold response to his suggestion. To have such an amazing woman shove him down and climb on top of him had aroused him beyond comprehension, and her play at seduction only made it worse. Reason fled his mind the moment her body pressed close and her lips teased his. Even when she bit him, all he could think about was how desperately he needed to have her. He was too stunned by the strength of that need to act on it, giving Nami the opening she needed to escape, leaving him cold and aroused and simmering with anger at how easily she enchanted him. Her temper only fueled his next actions.

But it wasn't her fault, and he knew better than to be angry with her when he had pushed things that far. He had set out to seduce her, even if the decision hadn't been entirely conscious on his part. Seeing the strength of her resolve when she vowed to never fail again had him fighting back the urge to kiss her within minutes of getting her into his tent. Her response to the gift he brought for her made the struggle worse, impossible to overcome when he thought to tempt her with the gold cross he claimed from the priest. He used that gold like bait on a hook and was all too happy to take advantage of her seeming willingness to give him what he wanted, even when they both knew he wasn't supposed to have it.

The beating she gave him was entirely justified. But even as he told himself that he deserved every kick and slap, he still wanted her, was still angry at being denied when he swore her interest was genuine. He couldn't fathom how she might have feigned her reactions to every gentle touch and kiss he managed to steal. He felt her shiver, heard her breath hitch, saw the sweet blush staining her cheeks. She wanted him, too. She _had_ to.

His rational mind fled him when he tackled her onto his furs. He didn't give a damn about the cross; whether she wanted to keep it, or if she would give it back. It was a convenient excuse to prove that he hadn't been wrong to think she shared in his desires.

Her initial lack of response brought sense back for a moment, but before he could think to pull away, her lips softened to his and the tension melted from her frame. She kissed him back. And she kissed him with everything she had. She arched at his touch. She moaned for him. Whimpered for him. She would have let him take her right then and there.

And he would have if not for the pain that lanced up his spine and through his shoulder. He felt the wound in his shoulder tear open as he shifted to touch her, pressing more of his weight onto his injured arm. The shock of pain sobered his mind, but his lust was hardly doused, and that left him even angrier. He would have ignored the pain and kept going, but the moment of sobriety had been enough to bring reason back and he realized just what he was about to do.

Nami might have been willing in the moment, as overcome with passion as he was, but she had made it perfectly clear in Álasund that she could not be with him, or any other man that desired her. The beating he had received only minutes before was a reminder of her wish to abstain. If he didn't stop himself there, he would invariably destroy everything they had.

He didn't even care about invoking some foolishly placed curse. He didn't care that the usurper she fled from would carve him to pieces if he heard of the affair. He didn't care what sort of wrath the gods or giants brought down on him. All that mattered was that he would have betrayed Nami's faith in him. She had said that she trusted him not to lose control, to respect her wishes and boundaries. She would surely hate him if he broke that trust and let himself give in to his desires.

All he could do was warn her away from him before storming off to find some outlet for his frustrations. He ran into Killer on his way out and was met with a judgmental scowl that tempted him to punch his cousin for the first time in years. Apparently, he had thought to peek in when he passed by the tent and heard the commotion of their fight, and proceeded to witness Kid's loss of control. He ignored his cousin for the time being and aimed for the campfire he had sat at earlier, where the others still gathered to drink the night away. He ordered Gunda to get Nami into her bed and not let her guard down for a second. He told her to bind Nami with rope and sit on her if she tried to escape to his bed. He would not face that temptation again, not that night.

Once he felt Nami was safe from him, he turned to Killer and ordered him to start packing provisions for the next day and find out how many were going with him. It would keep his cousin from lecturing him, or asking more questions than Kid cared to answer. And it meant they wouldn't have to waste any time in the morning when he wanted to leave. The men could have the whole night to bicker about who might go with him. He didn't want to take a large party. He had no intention to war with this Saxon if he didn't have to. He had promised Nami that he wouldn't let anyone else die, and he would do his best to keep that promise.

With his orders given, he headed off to slaughter the last of their captives, but was stopped when Heat noticed the fresh blood staining his tunic. He was forced out of his tunic and sat by the fire so Heat could assess the newest damage. His healer still wanted to sew the wound shut, but he admitted that with Kid's unwillingness to rest, he would just tear the stitches out. Instead Kid found himself pinned to the ground by five men with a frayed rope shoved in his mouth while Heat closed the wound with a hot knife. The searing pain sapped him of his strength, drained the restless energy that drove his foul mood, and after a deep drink from a cup of wine, he passed out by the fire.

After a fitful night of sleep on the cold, hard ground, Kid woke before dawn and got the men up to leave for Lord Urouge's territory. While the others ate, he killed the last of the captives, save for the one he intended to deliver alive, and tossed their remains onto a cart. He was restless to leave immediately, but it wasn't until the sun crested the horizon that the others were ready to go.

Lucci, Kaku, and Killer were joining him, along with a handful of Franky's men. He ordered the rest of his men to stay behind to guard the camp. Franky volunteered to stay behind of his own accord, but his decision came with advice that Kid not leave Nami without at least saying goodbye. Kid would have refused to seek her out, except Franky shoved him toward the women's tent where Nami had been hiding since the night before and he was left with little choice on the matter.

He wanted to see her, no matter what he said, but he swore it was in their best interests that he keep his distance until he could find something akin to control. In the end, his need to leave with one last glimpse of her won out. There was no guarantee that he would see her again if things went awry in his errand. He didn't want to leave her with any regrets.

Unfortunately, when he poked his head into her tent, he was met with Gunda's darkest glare while she kept a tight grip on her sword. She looked ready to behead him from where she stood in front of Nami's bed. He wondered if Nami told her about the night before, or if she merely assumed something had happened because of his orders. Either way, it was obvious she was not about to let him near her charge anytime soon, and he was both annoyed and grateful for that.

Nami didn't even notice him as she sat with her nose buried in the book from Francia, intently reading about their nobility, so he slipped away without a word. His mood soured and the men accompanying him noticed enough to step carefully around him as he wound rope around their captive's neck and secured the makeshift lead to his saddle. The man was forced to stumble along behind him as they made their way off to find his lord. If he lost his footing, Kid would just leave him to drag through the dirt. He had no patience or sympathy for the bastard, even if his mood wasn't so foul.

He was told that the journey would take nearly two days with the slow pace of their cart, but he felt no rush in his errand. The time away would be good to clear his mind.

The first day was spent mostly in silence, at least for him. Franky's men chattered away near the back of their procession, but said nothing to him as he took the lead and distanced himself from the rest. He spared a few grunts if Killer spoke to him, but that was a rarity. The only other in their group willing to come near him was Lucci, and he spoke even less than Killer, so Kid was perfectly content with his company.

They stopped before the sun went down, but Kid knew sleep would elude him that night so he kept himself busy sharpening a sword as he stared at their prisoner. He held the man's gaze, keeping his eyes hard and lips curled in a sadistic grin while he slowly drew his whetstone over the blade. The Saxon fidgeted in his ropes, unable to hide his fear after the trauma of watching his companions be slaughtered, one by one, in cold blood. His face was covered in the blood of those men, long dried and turned into crusting splotches of brown. Terrorizing the Saxon was the only thing that kept Kid's mind from thinking about the night before, though it hardly kept his thoughts off the woman he left behind.

He took a sick amount of amusement in every flinch and shudder he earned from his captive, while forcing himself to ignore Nami's request for mercy. She was too kind. After all that she had been through in life, for her to have any capacity for mercy amazed him. She would likely plead for this Saxon's life if she saw the state he was in, weak from fever and whimpering like a helpless babe. But Kid wasn't kind, no matter how well he treated her, or anyone else he cared for. They were his people, his friends, his family. It was his duty to protect them, to provide for them. The man before him was not a friend, he was an enemy that set upon his people with only bloodshed and capture in mind. He knew better than to forgive an enemy, to let them go unpunished. If he showed any enemy mercy, it was strictly out of respect, not remorse or compassion. He had no respect for the cowering man before him, so he had no mercy to spare.

They set off the next day just after dawn. Kid's mood had improved to a dull sort of indifference. He was tired from his sleepless night, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He would sleep after he dealt with Urouge.

Midday brought them to a sprawling village with a fortress built at the center. Their captive informed them that this was where Lord Urouge lived, so Kid retreated their group into the thin woods to the east. He spent the better part of the afternoon cutting down trees with Lucci and Kaku while he set Killer to work on the nine bodies in the cart that were attracting more and more flies with every hour that passed.

Later that night, under the cover of darkness, Kid and Killer took Franky's men to an open field visible to the village. He had sharpened two long timbers into stakes and tied them into a cross for their captive to be bound to at the center of the field. Nine more stakes were placed around him in a ring, each decorated with a severed head impaled onto the spiked top. The Christians likened he and his men to demons, so Kid decided to give them a gruesome display straight out of their devil's hellish pits.

Logs and twigs were piled around the nine stakes and set aflame. Once the blazes took, they tossed the last of the dismembered bodies into the flames and took off to hide just over the crest of a hill.

They watched and waited with their bows ready as the prisoner began to cry out as the flames spread through dry grass, filling the field with a blaze that couldn't be missed by anyone in the village. It didn't take long for chaos to erupt. The villagers shouted and raced out with buckets of water in hand to douse the flames. In the flickering light, Kid signaled for his men to take aim. He waited for one breath and then gave the signal to let their arrows loose.

He grinned at the shrieks and cries of pain as the Saxons were picked off one by one. He doubted many of the hits were lethal. The darkness and irregular light from the fire made it difficult to strike a moving target, but that didn't stop him from unleashing hell on them. Their lord willfully followed the schemes of a silent monk and brought misery to his people that had taken no part in their raids. Nami and the others had been innocent, even if Kid and the rest were not. They did nothing to deserve an attack, and he knew they would have been safe where they were if not for that monk wanting to take her. He felt it only fair that Urouge's innocent villagers suffer Kid's wrath.

Kaku and Lucci hadn't been interested in this part of Kid's plan, but they knew better than to stop him. They chose to wait at the edge of the woods, watching the mayhem in case they would need to attack. By the time the giant came rushing out, half dressed in trousers and a loose robe, they were already out of arrows and most of the villagers had taken shelter. Urouge's soldiers were too busy protecting the village from the fire to give chase when Kid signaled for them to retreat.

They were shrouded by darkness that night as they wove their way through the trees back to their camp. Kid doubted Urouge would spare anyone to attack that night, not when there was a risk of ambush, with Kid having the obvious advantage. But he still ordered that they not keep a fire that night and maintained a strict guard of the area to avoid being sneaked up on.

"What do you plan to do tomorrow?" Lucci asked him as he settled down against a tree to rest.

His bruised and battered side ached, and his shoulder had become so stiff he could hardly move his left arm. He swallowed a groan as he leaned back, thankful that the dark and shadows hid his grimace. He didn't want to appear at a disadvantage, even with allies.

"Depends on what that Saxon giant thinks to do," Kid mused. "You want to fight him, don't you?" Lucci nodded, his hand flexing around the grip of his sword. Kid stretched his side and tried to roll his shoulder to loosen it, masking his discomfort with a quiet chuckle. "After tonight, I doubt Urouge will care to broker for peace, but I would like a chance to ask him about the monk that sent him to our camp."

"You should have considered that before attacking his villagers," Kaku said.

"And if he did not wish to see his people struck down with our arrows, perhaps he should have considered the consequences of attacking our camp first," Kid growled.

"You promised Nami that we would all return alive," Killer reminded. "If you mean to approach Urouge for a treatise, then you should prepare for the chance of an ambush. We'll be outnumbered with our small party."

"I know that," he grumbled. "Lucci wants to battle him, so why not make a request for single combat to settle the score between us?"

"And when I win, how will you gain the information you seek on the monk?" Lucci asked.

Kid cocked his brow. "You left your last opponent alive. I don't see how you can't let this one keep breathing for a little while so I can ask a few questions." He shut his eyes with a shrug. "But if you kill him, then that's what the gods willed. I'll search for answers elsewhere."

With that, the matter was settled. Kid wanted to be confidant that he would get answers from Urouge the next day, but even he had his doubts. There was something strange afoot with that monk. He had a nagging suspicion that there were more gods at play with his fate, and Nami's, than Odin and Freyja. The image of a monk shrouded in black and blood and flies, an embodiment of death, made him wonder what sort of trickster or demon might be lurking in the shadows. There were more monsters in their world than giants that they had reason to fear. Kid vowed that he would not let his guard falter, that he would doubt any strangers he came across. He wouldn't let any malevolent being or spirit attempt to bring Nami harm, twist her fate, or take her from him. He would do whatever it took to protect her.

The next day, Kid waited until late morning before leading his party toward the village. The grass field still smoldered, filling the air with a haze of smoke that smelled like charred grass and burnt flesh. The stakes had burned to ash, but no sign of the soldiers' remains could be found in the cinders. Their crucifix was singed, but otherwise remained intact. The ropes that had bound their captive were cut, which meant the man had likely survived, though Kid imagined he continued to suffer after the torture he forced the soldier to endure.

Kid ordered the others to stay in the field while he went on ahead alone. They would watch for any attack as he approached the village entrance and come to his aid if he needed it. He slowed his horse when a villager spotted him and screamed, bringing the rest of the village's attention to him. He kept his shield propped in front of him and had borrowed a helm to protect his head should anyone attempt to shoot an arrow his way. Between the extra armor and his heavy furs, he wondered if he appeared as a monster to the Saxons fleeing to their homes. After the previous night, he was surely something out of their worst nightmares; the very demon they claimed him to be.

He watched through the narrow slits of his helm as the villagers were replaced with a small garrison of soldiers. They lined up along the edge of town with iron shields and sharp spears held in front of them. They kept their distance from him, their formation meant more as a deterrent than any act of aggression. He was only one man, but his actions last night left them wary and mistrustful. They would not attack recklessly, but they would stand in defense of their people if he charged them.

"I wish to talk to your lord," he called to them, lowering his shield when he saw no threat of an arrow striking him. He leaned over the pommel of his saddle to grin at the soldiers. A few heads turned as they discussed his request, but he waited patiently, idly stroking his horse's mane, until one of the soldiers broke from the formation to run back into the village. The remaining soldiers were tense, their guards sharp while he relaxed in his saddle seemingly without a care.

He didn't have to wait long before the large, dark-skinned lord came sauntering through the village with a longsword propped on his shoulder and a scowl on his face. He didn't look interested in talking, but he came to a halt in front of his men when he saw that Kid's men remained far behind him.

"What do you want from me, pagan?" Urouge asked.

"That's a rude way to greet a man wishing to negotiate peace, Lord Urouge," Kid called, his grin widening. "I have a name, you know."

"I do not know your name, though after the cruel display you left us last night, I think _pagan_ suffices," Urouge bellowed back.

"Fair enough," Kid relented, chuckling to himself.

"And was that display not a declaration of war? Why broker for peace when you made it clear you have no interest in such?" The Saxon giant seemed to grow in stature as he puffed his chest and straightened his back. He doubted Kid's intentions, but Kid could not hold that against him.

"I was just venting some of my anger. You unjustly attacked my people…"

"Unjustly? Were you not here to raid our lands?" Urouge interrupted.

"I never came near your village, and those people left at my camp were not here to war."

"Perhaps not, but they were here to support you and the others that did raid. They are not as innocent as you are intent on making them out to be," Urouge argued.

"I will grant you that most of my men are far from innocent, but the women in that camp meant no harm to any of you. And your man informed me that you meant to take off with one of them, that she was the sole reason you attacked. Kidnapping an innocent young woman, that isn't very _Christian_ of you," Kid growled. "I thought it was only us _pagans_ who stole women from our enemies?" he asked mockingly.

Urouge's posture relaxed as he nodded. "My soldier told me your reason for seeking me out was to punish me for harming your woman. So, what has changed your mind from seeking vengeance? Surely your barbaric sacrifice of my men was not enough to quench your need for my blood."

"You're right, it hardly sated me, but I have questions only you can answer, and if I kill you, then that won't help me protect my people," he said.

"Should I answer your questions, then what is there to stop you from then seeking your vengeance upon me?"

"I am a man of my word," Kid assured with a confident smile.

"And then what is to stop _me_ from seeking my own vengeance after you made my innocent people suffer?"

Kid chuckled. "As I said, I am a man of my word, and I made a promise to someone that I would return alive."

Urouge stared at him a moment before he broke out in ringing laughter. Kid's brow rose at the unexpected grin splitting the Saxon's jolly face. "I take it your promise was to the woman with amber hair I was tasked to steal from you? I understand that she is precious to you. She may not be the angel the monk claimed, but she has at least inspired some grace and mercy in such a violent creature, so she must be holy in her own right."

That made Kid laugh with him. "She's hardly inspired shit in me. If I could be certain that I could keep my promise to her, and kill you right here and now, I would have done so the second I saw you again, and then I would have burned your whole fucking village to the ground."

"You instill such confidence in me that you will truly keep your word," Urouge said with a snort. "I would be wise to slaughter you here and now."

"Then I have a proposition to make to you. Fight my ally in single combat. If you defeat him, we'll leave here without any further bloodshed, and I'll vow never to raid in your territory again."

"And if, by some cruel fate, your ally defeats me? What of the questions you have of me? You won't get any answers if I'm dead, remember?"

"My ally has agreed to let you live long enough to give me answers. But, if you die, then you die, and I'll just have to accept that."

"And what will come of my people in that case?"

"My ally has no desire to fight your villagers, and he and his friend shared plenty of their disagreements about last night. They don't want any more innocent blood shed, so if my ally wins his battle, I will heed his wishes and leave your people alone." That had been an easy agreement to make, at least it was after Killer reminded him of his promise to Nami. They were too small in numbers to destroy the village, and he was in no condition to battle a Saxon army, let alone Lucci who appeared willing to take his head if he killed any villagers. He wasn't going to recklessly throw his life away over a squabble with an ally, not when he had far greater goals to achieve in the future. And if Urouge agreed to fight Lucci in single combat, then even he could agree that it would be dishonorable to kill everyone the Saxon lord was willing to die to protect. "Win or lose, this battle will settle my grudge with you."

It was the most generous offer he would ever make to an enemy, and Kid hoped Urouge would take it. He wanted to see this battle, and he wanted his answers. He wouldn't leave until he had both.

Urouge gave the offer a moment of silent contemplation. He played with a string of red beads wound around his wrist as he stared off at the men waiting in the field far behind Kid. When his decision was made, he turned back to Kid with a grin.

"I will fight your ally, and when I defeat him, you will leave here peacefully and never return. If you ever step foot in my lands with ill intent again, then I won't rest until you and every single man and woman you brought with you is buried in the ground, never to torment my people again."

Kid smiled at the condition he tacked onto the agreement. He would be allowed back to Urouge's lands if he was peaceful, he just couldn't needlessly war or raid within his lands. He could keep his word on that. "So be it," he said, nodding. "Are you ready to fight him now, or do you need time to prepare?"

"Return tomorrow morning, shortly after dawn. I would like to pray and settle some affairs, make love to a woman, just in case the Lord above has determined this is my time to join Him. I do not want to leave this world with regrets," Urouge said.

"We'll see you again at dawn, then," he said, turning his horse back to his men. "If you can, fuck that woman an extra time for me. I was kept from enjoying a beautiful and willing woman before I sought you. I'd pity even you if you died with my misery."

Urouge's laughter followed him all the way to his men. He was met with bemused looks as his horse continued past them.

"He's agreed to fight you in the morning," he said to Lucci on his way by. Their confusion didn't lessen as they followed him, but he ignored their curious stares. He didn't care to explain Urouge's bellowing laughter, not when he would surely be mocked for the reason. Among their party, only Killer knew the reason for his mood, and he'd rather not share that knowledge with anyone else.

Spurned by his own body's weakness. The sting to his pride was two-fold. Any mockery would end in murder.

He snorted wryly to himself. At least someone in that country was fucking their woman that day. It was just too bad it wasn't him.

* * *

"Lady Nami," Gunda snapped as she trailed Nami around the camp. Her temper was thinning as Nami gathered extra furs and scraps of food, stuffing them into a leather bag, but Nami ignored her shieldmaiden. "I beg of you, please reconsider. Jarl Eustass will be furious when he learns of this."

Nami laughed, waving off the woman's concerns as she headed toward the horse Axel was grudgingly saddling for her. "So long as I return before he does, he doesn't need to know anything."

"And if you don't return?" Gunda argued, snatching Nami by the sleeve to spin her around and force her to see the woman's worried scowl.

It had only been half a day since Kid left, and Nami had grown restless within the confines of the camp. The men were still making repairs to their defenses, Heat was busy tending to the wounded, and Nami had little to do but help the healer. But even that task was taken from her after their two most critically injured finally succumbed to their wounds. It hadn't been much of a surprise, both had been suffering from high fevers, but the grim reminder of the deaths hanging over her made the restlessness worse. She couldn't remain in camp, not without her mind wandering to those she had lost.

The only thoughts she had to distract herself from melancholy were of Kid and what had happened between them the night before. She tolerated those thoughts even less. A shiver would tease down her spine, her lips would ache for his kiss, her body would long for his touch, and she found herself wondering what might have come if he hadn't stopped.

She absolutely could not sit around letting those idle thoughts overtake her. She needed to get away. She needed to explore, to give in to her wanderlust, and put all of that behind her.

Nami sighed. "I _will_. Kid won't be back for a few days, and I can't stay here waiting around for him to sate his bloodlust. I came here to see new lands, and I mean to do just that."

"But Lady Nami, it is dangerous. That monk could still be out there, waiting for you to be alone to snatch you. And there is no telling what other lords might take exception with a Northern woman wandering their lands," Gunda reasoned. "You cannot go on this journey. _Not alone_."

Nami smiled at her. "Then come with me."

"What?" Gunda looked taken aback, blinking in surprise.

"I don't want to go alone, Gunda. You're more than welcome to join me. I could use the companionship," she explained.

"Then why not ask Lady Kalifa or anyone else?"

Nami took her hand in hers and squeezed it tight. "Because _you_ are my friend, here and at home. I can share more with you than any other, and I trust you most of all to protect me while I'm away." Gunda didn't look convinced, so Nami smiled reassuringly. "I want to map more of the coast and continue my practice with the runes. Either task requires my whole concentration, and I want someone there to watch over me, that I trust will not take advantage, and can comfort me if my meditation brings another dark vision. You're the only other person here I feel safe confiding in, Gunda."

"I feel strangely offended hearing that," Axel grumbled beneath his breath from beside her horse. She ignored him while staring expectantly at Gunda.

"I'll join you," she relented with a long sigh. She glanced over Nami's shoulder to glare at Axel. "I certainly cannot trust any of the men to be in your company alone."

"And that is doubly offensive," Axel huffed. "After Jarl Eustass' behavior last night, all the men understand she is not to be touched, no matter what. He'll chop our balls off if we even look at his woman the wrong way."

Nami glowered at him. "I'm not _his_ _woman_." Axel's brow rose, and Nami huffed defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't refer to me as though I were one of Kid's _possessions_. No man may possess me; that includes him. And he knows that as well as I do, so don't you dare think to treat me as such."

Axel's frown remained unconvinced, but he rolled his eyes and gave up on that argument. The fact that the gossip of their failed tryst spread like wildfire among Kid's mean was yet another reason she needed to get far away from the camp. They all seemed eager for details she would not give. Kid had been just as unwilling to speak on the matter in detail, but he had been able to flee the camp before enduring the brunt of their questions while she was left at their mercy. Gunda kept them back as best she could, but there was no missing the knowing grins they cast her way. It was a miracle they kept the information to only Kid's men, though Franky seemed perfectly aware of what happened. Kalifa hadn't tried to lecture her for anything, so she knew the gossip had been mostly contained. It was only a matter of time before that changed.

"Well, ignoring that debate," Axel said, "I do agree with Gunda that you shouldn't go alone."

"And I'm not," Nami groaned. "You did just hear her agree to join me, didn't you?"

"I don't think it would be wise to send you ladies off without a capable escort," Axel explained.

Nami's brows rose. "Are you saying that you don't think we are capable enough of defending ourselves? Maybe I should have Kalifa come over here and remind you that we women are not to be underestimated?"

He grimaced as he cast a look to the woman sitting with Iceburg's men across the camp from them. She had been complaining of dizzy spells and nausea since their battle and insisted on resting as much as she could, but Nami didn't doubt that she would fight through the injury to correct Axel of his doubts. "I just think it would be wise if you had _additional_ protection. If someone was willing to send an army down upon our camp for you, then we can't leave your safety to chance. As Gunda said, Jarl Eustass will be furious if anything happens to you."

"That's why I'm joining them," Hróarr called as he led two horses toward them. He glared at Axel. "Out of all the men in this camp, I'm the one most immune to Nami's enchantments. You'll only continue to spoil her and lose your senses." He ignored Axel as the man gaped in shock and turned to smile down at Nami. The expression was pained, not one he was used to making. "If you'll have me, of course. I will not interfere if you wish to bond with your shieldmaiden alone, but I would not be doing my duty, or properly honoring Finn's sacrifice if I did not at least follow to keep an eye on you."

She frowned at his reason, unable to refute it, and grudgingly agreed with a short nod. He turned to Gunda, his smile already gone. "Gather what you need quickly. It would be best if we leave soon so we have the most time to return."

Axel broke from his surprise as Gunda hurried off to pack. He glowered at Hróarr. "You are just as likely to spoil her as the rest of us."

"I am not the one that let her into the chests," he reminded, glancing at Nami. "How much did you take for yourself?"

She pursed her lips and stared up at the sky, refusing to answer. She didn't take that much. Only a bracelet.

Hróarr kicked the satchel hanging from her hand and looked at her expectantly when he heard the tinkling chime of the coins inside.

So, she might have taken fifty… or a hundred coins, too. It was hardly more than a pittance compared to the whole haul.

"See?" He looked back at Axel who failed to look innocent. He _had_ held the bag open for her while she piled her treasure inside. "At least I am capable of telling her no."

"Halle was the one that let her peek in the chests. And I told her no when she reached for the coins," he attempted to argue, but as Hróarr stared skeptically, Axel's cheeks turned pink with a blush. "But then she did that pouty lip thing and batted her eyes… You can't judge me for that. Even Jarl Eustass cannot say no to that look!"

"And that is why you are not going with the women," Hróarr stated. "She might come across a village and attempt to loot them herself, and you will not stop her."

"I wouldn't loot a random village!" Nami argued. Hróarr's brow rose. "Fine, I would have made him do it for me," she huffed.

"I am going, and you will behave yourself," Hróarr stated firmly, ignoring her sulky pout. "I will not endure the Jarl's wrath should you get yourself into trouble. We will follow the coast north for three days, avoid any village or farm we see, and then return before the others do. _Without_ more gold than is already in your bag."

Nami gave one last petulant huff over the rules he put in place. She had no intention of stealing from any homes she came across on her journey. She truly only meant to travel along the coast to map it. If she were alone, she was in no shape to defend herself from attack, no matter how easily she could slip in and out of a home without being noticed. And even with Gunda coming along, she would not have wanted to put her shieldmaiden in more danger by making any reckless attempts at thievery. If Axel had come, though, she might have considered it more. He would at least make for a good distraction while she slipped into a house, but she didn't want to risk his life in case they came across stronger men. She had seen enough loss, she would not see more. Not even for a few more bits of gold.

Hróarr gave her a firm pat on the head and gestured for her to mount her horse once Gunda reappeared with a satchel of her belongings. Axel secured Nami's bags while Hróarr helped Gunda with hers. Once the three of them were mounted, Axel grabbed her knee and leveled her with a stern look.

"Come back quickly. I don't want to see how angry our Jarl can become if he finds you missing," he said, a note of warning in his voice. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see Kid that angry, either. She might care for him and trust him, but even she knew to be wary of his temper.

"I'll be back within a week," she reassured, patting his hand before he drew it away.

The rest of the camp shouted their farewells from around the fires, and the three of them cantered off toward the north.

They followed the hills overlooking the coast, walked through wooded regions that gave way to open meadows. They traveled in silence for most of that afternoon, Nami leading the way while Hróarr remained a few paces behind, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

Nami focused on the slow, ambling gait of her horse as they made their way over rough paths. She listened to her mare snort and whiny, the clop of her hooves upon stones buried within rich soil. She felt the steady strength and graceful form of the animal's movements. Her worries bled away, replaced by peace and contentment. She thought of nothing but the path in front of her and the horse carrying her over foreign lands. The rest of her mind was cleared, centered on the present, on herself.

The journey had been Heat's idea when he noticed her despondent and restless visage. While he couldn't join her, he still felt it was wise to give in to her need for escape. She needed to breathe, to remember the life that filled her spirit, and she couldn't do that surrounded by reminders of death. She needed clarity to move forward. She needed to find her way back to the path she was determined to forge. She needed to forget her losses, forget her fears, forget her desires, and focus solely on her spirit.

He advised her to concentrate on only the journey as he etched the _raidho_ rune onto a gold coin and pressed it into her palm. He reminded her that Freyja often journeyed over the lands in search of her lost husband, Odr, who had his own wanderlust that carried him far and wide. It wasn't just the spirit of the sea within her, it was the spirit of exploration and a curiosity of the unknown. He said in this journey she must find the right direction to take in the world, to find herself, to listen to the knowledge she already possessed.

There were no visions that day to prove the decision was the right one, but Nami felt freer than she had back in camp. The peace in her soul was enough to tell her that the journey and path she followed was the correct one.

They stopped before nightfall to rest on a hill overlooking the sea. Hróarr went down to the shore to try his luck at catching some fresh fish, while she and Gunda prepared a fire. Nami took advantage of the waning light as she took out a sheet of parchment and a small ink well she found tucked in the chest Kid brought her. She had found a bird feather as they walked along the coast that was suitable enough for a quill, not perfect, but after she cleaned and sharpened the tip, she decided it would suffice until she made something better. She made a desk out of the large tome on Frankish lineage, pinned her parchment down with rocks as the breeze picked up, and then set about sketching the coastline she had seen that day.

It had been months since she was last able to draw a map of her own desire. Arlong appreciated the talent and pushed her to map out all the Frankish coasts and territories he took her to visit. For anyone else, she would have been happy to put her skills to use, but for Arlong it always felt like another chore. She wanted to see the world, and she wanted to map it, but she didn't want to do it for that man's personal gain. Drawing for herself, though, was a pleasure, something she took pride in knowing that so few of their people had the skill. As talented as they were as crafting ships and navigating the oft untamable seas, maps were still rare. They learned their routes through experience, through stories, through the teaching of parent to child, through commune with nature and the world around them. They might etch some maps of their lands onto rocks and trees, but they were nothing like the detailed, and sometimes colorful pieces painted onto parchment found in other lands. That was steadily changing as their trade routes expanded and they had more access to better materials, allowing them to cultivate skills that might once have been squandered.

She wondered just how far they could advance as a world of knowledge and wealth gradually opened to them.

"Where did you learn such a skill?" Gunda asked as she sat down beside her, peering over Nami's shoulder to watch her draw.

"I taught myself," Nami explained as she gently brushed her inked feather over the parchment, careful to keep her lines neat and smooth. "When Jarl Genzo took me to Hedeby, he brought along a map of the Danish coast, and I compared the two as we sailed by. The map wasn't accurate, so when we got home, I drew a new one. Then every day I would wander to the Kattegat to walk along the coast, then follow the river back to Tingstad. I counted my steps to judge the distance, then drew a map that took the distance into account, scaling my steps down to the width of my fingertip. Eventually I didn't need to count my steps anymore. I just knew the distance I traveled by how much my feet hurt."

Gunda snickered. "You worked very hard at your talent. I suppose it does not all come naturally. Or perhaps it does, but to understand it requires effort, and to master it requires practice."

Nami smiled. "That is certainly true. Talents and gifts are only a starting point. My mother… Bellemere, she told me that the gods gave me the raw ability, but it was up to me to make something of it."

"I am sure she would be proud of you if she saw you now." Gunda spoke carefully, her tone solemn and wary. "You do not speak of her much... The shieldmaiden that raised you… But I can tell she was dear to you."

"She was my mother," Nami said softly. "Maybe not by birth, but she was my mother in every way that mattered. I have never once stopped missing her."

Gunda said nothing, but placed her hand on Nami's shoulder to comfort her. Nami shook away her sad thoughts, and forced herself to smile as brightly as she could. She lost her mother, and her sister was far out of her reach, but Nami wasn't alone. She had friends to rely on, that brought her comfort and joy in the bleakest of times. She had little reason to be sad.

Hróarr returned to their camp with a single fish. It was better than nothing and would be more filling than the provisions of dried meat and nuts they brought. Nami tucked her map away once the fish was cooked. It was growing too dark to continue her work, anyway. She kept her book out as she stretched out beside the fire to eat, deciding to read a couple of pages before going to bed. The book accounted for several Frankish lineages, with grand stories of their founding and most notable heirs that reminded her of the great sagas of their own people. Some of the content was dry and lacking information, but she could tell who was held in highest regard based on how many stories were given of their personal exploits.

"What is that book you have been reading?" Gunda asked over her supper. "You were reading it so intently this morning, you missed when Jarl Eustass came by the tent."

Nami blinked in surprise, looking up at her shieldmaiden in surprise. "He came by this morning?"

Hróarr snorted. "On Franky's advice," he explained. "He was told not to leave you without at least saying goodbye, just in case he never returned." Hróarr gestured toward Gunda. "I believe she's the real reason you didn't notice. She takes her orders seriously where your safety is concerned."

"I would have allowed him to say goodbye if he spoke up," Gunda insisted. "He merely ordered that I not let him near her, so I stood in his path to her when he looked in. He could have shared any message he had from the opening of the tent."

Nami pouted. "He told me he didn't want to see my face again until he returned. I'm surprised he came by at all, no matter what Franky might have told him."

Hróarr hid his smile with a shake of his head. "That man might have said that, but I doubt he meant it in his heart. We've all noticed how he sulks without your attention, even if the distance is by his design. He likes when your eyes are on him."

Gunda sighed. "I don't know all that transpired between the two of you last night, but Hróarr is right. He could not go a day without at least laying eyes on you when he was treating you so coldly. He obviously hated that distance as much as he hated your anger with him for it."

"I can only imagine how miserable he must be right now." Hróarr chuckled. "I doubt that man's ever been _smitten_ over a woman in his life. He surely has no idea how to deal with those feelings."

Nami fought off a blush at his straightforward remark. "That subject is part of why I needed to escape camp, can we _please_ not discuss it further. It makes no matter what he does or does not feel for me. It's forbidden."

" _Marriage_ is forbidden. Not love or lust or whatever it is that drives my Jarl to protect you so earnestly." Hróarr scoffed, waving her off. "I'll drop the subject, but not before saying what I think of that rule concocted in your clan's tale first. It's pure horse shit. The gods have done enough meddling in your existence. They should step aside and let you live your life however you desire. We all only have a short time in this world, might as well enjoy it to the fullest. To do otherwise is setting yourself up for tragedy and heartache."

She glared thoughtfully at him. She wondered on that advice. The entire curse began because of gods meddling in the affairs of others. Every daughter was separated from their lover, just as Hnoss had been forcefully separated from her lover, and just as Freyja was always separated from her husband. Terrible fates fell upon the mortal women of the lineage, but that was because the men they inevitably chose to lay with were too greedy and selfish, too weak-willed to resist using them for their own ambitions.

It didn't matter to her. After what occurred, it wasn't the curse she was worried about most, though it made for a convenient excuse. Her visions showed Kid's death and there was no guarantee she would be able to change that. Hróarr said that not giving in to whatever she desired would lead to heartache, and for most people that might be true, but for her, if she gave in to whatever force had gradually been drawing her closer to Kid, then she could end up facing the greatest heartache of her life if he was taken from her. She had to guard herself against the future tragedy, even if it meant robbing herself of the pleasure promised in Kid's touch.

Her heart ached at that decision, but she couldn't be deterred from it.

"I'll give it some thought," she said to appease Hróarr, and then turned to Gunda with a painfully forced smile. "As for your earlier question, this book is on the noble lineages of Francia."

"Why does that interest you so much?" Gunda asked, while Hróarr raised a brow to show his own curiosity on the matter.

"I've been told that my father was a Norman lord," Nami explained. "I was never told his name, but supposedly he still has family living in Francia. I'm hoping to find some clues to who he might be in this text."

Bellemere had been the one to tell her about her Norman heritage. Arlong had been the one to tell her that she still had family living there, within the noble house. She wasn't sure if she could believe that, especially when he never deigned to give her a name, or even tell of how they were related. Did she have a sibling? A cousin? An elderly aunt not long for the world? She had no idea who belonged to this other side of her family. She never cared to meet them, not if they only intended to kill her to avoid the controversy, but she was curious of who they might be, if they truly existed. Her father was as much an enigma as her birth mother was. They were people that existed once, but they were only ghosts to her. She wondered if she found some evidence of the life they led, or at least for one of them, would it solidify their existence in her mind?

"Were they not behind the decimation of your clan?" Hróarr asked, concern etched in his frown. "Why would you care to learn of them?"

"I want the proof that they existed." Nami sighed. "I doubt the Frankish would have written anything about their connection to a pagan clan, but it would be nice to know if there are some clues beyond what Arlong's told me."

"I'm not sure how much you can learn if you don't even know the name of your father. How would you know if he's mentioned at all without his name?" Gunda asked.

Nami frowned. "I have an idea what he might look like. I think." Her companions looked at her expectantly. "Bellemere had been new to Västerås when the Frankish attacked the clan. Before that she had been in Normandy to work alongside Norman cousins to protect our trade routes. While she was there, she said she had met my father briefly, and he was the one that encouraged she travel to Svealand and pledge her shield to my clan. She said that he only had praises for my mother, compared her hair to spun gold and said her smile was more radiant than any jewel or pearl he had ever seen. If my mother had hair the color of spun gold, just as her mother had, and her grandmother, and great-grandmother, then how did I come to have amber colored hair?"

"So, you believe that any story about a man with amber colored hair might be about your father?" Gunda mused. "It is unique enough to be plausible, and most children with red hair have someone in their family with the same color."

"Jarl Eustass' father had brown hair," Hróarr grunted. "As did his mother."

"His cousins are fair, and I have heard that his grandfather had red hair in his youth," Gunda argued.

Hróarr shrugged. "Still, it could be related to her supposed curse more than her kin. Heat has told us that Nami's amber stone is special to her, that her curse and very being is connected to it. It is plausible that her color is related to that, not her father."

"Then why not her mother, or the mothers before her?" Gunda argued. "If Nami's existence is as connected to that stone as theirs were, then should they not share that resemblance?"

Nami glowered at the book in front of her as they bickered. "No, Hróarr has a point," she relented. "I know of a prophecy about my clan, and if it's true, I'm the last of the line. The amber my family's existence is connected to might have given me a distinguishing trait."

Gunda squeezed her shoulder and smiled sympathetically. Nami couldn't hide her disappointment from her, and even Hróarr gave up with a long sigh.

"But it does not hurt to learn what you can," he relented. "Just try not to raise your hopes if you find a hint. Even if you learn who this man was, you cannot know his family. They are not to be trusted. If the shieldmaiden that took you in knew of him, yet did not tell you more about him, then that silence speaks volumes. She didn't want you searching him out, either."

"I know." She pouted, idly fingering the thick parchment. She was still curious, but she supposed it was a foolish desire to seek for answers about a man and his family that destroyed the home she should have once known. They hadn't just taken her mother and her shieldmaidens. They had taken the priestesses dedicated to their family and the gods. They had taken the innocent villagers merely living a normal, peaceful existence. They had taken Nojiko's family. There had been nothing left of the village when they were done, every structure was smashed and burned. It had been a massacre beyond compare. She didn't want anything to do with those people.

But she still wanted to know the reason, or lack thereof, that drove the Frankish and Norman army to destroy a clan that bore them no malice or threat. She wouldn't have sought legitimacy within their lineage. She wouldn't have desired a title or recognition in their family. She would have grown up thinking nothing of them, just as all the women before her had grown up with no connection to their fathers. Madness alone couldn't be the only catalyst to their actions.

The topic was dropped after that and Nami returned to her reading until her eyes strained to understand the words in the waning firelight. The next morning, they set out shortly after dawn and Nami forgot about the conversation altogether as they traversed thickening woods further north. They saw smoke rising from a farm near midday. Hróarr led them around the property, giving it a wide berth to avoid being noticed. They found a well-worn path wide enough for a cart with deep ruts gouged into the hard-packed soil shortly after passing the farm. They followed the path until they heard a cart and men talking to the north of them. They slipped off the path and headed east toward the coast again. Nami looked back in time to see two men leading a horse drawn cart with an old woman riding in the back between stuffed bags, dozing off as they ambled over the uneven path. The men didn't take notice of them, but the old lady peeked open an eye and Nami swore she saw them, despite their trio walking deep within the trees. The old lady made no cry of alarm, merely smiled and nodded a greeting, then lowered her head to return to her nap before the cart was out of sight again. She seemed kind and Nami wondered if there were people that would grant them with some hospitality.

"Kid said that there were Norse settlements in this region," Nami spoke up. "Do you know if we're near any?"

Hróarr angled his head back so she could see his frown. "There are a few farms, I believe, but I'm not familiar enough with any of them to say where they might be. Why?"

"If we see one, maybe we can find a hall willing to welcome us for a night," she suggested.

"We shall see," he agreed, and Nami spent the early afternoon hoping they might get a warm meal that was more than a single fish for them to share.

When they found a clearing among the dense woods that overlooked the coastline, they took another break so that Nami could walk along the beach. She was surprised when she reached the end of the sandy coast and found a stretch of mudflats with a small island off in the distance. She imagined that at high tide the mud was completely submerged in the ocean, cutting the island off from the English mainland. She could just spy the remnants of a property, but no signs of life.

"I believe that was once a monastery," Hróarr said as he came up behind her. "Our people raided this region hundreds of years ago."

"Are they why it sits empty now?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He shook his head. "No, they were left well enough alone after that, but when the Danes began to creep further north, the people began to abandon much of this area. I believe this monastery's disuse is due to the tensions south of here."

Nami hummed to herself as she hiked up to solid ground on a hilltop, Gunda and Hróarr leading their horses behind her. She took her parchment from her pack and settled into the swaying grass without a word, intent on drawing the small island before they moved on. She drew out the mudflats and sea around it, sketched out the hill with the weathered remains of the monastery. When she was satisfied with what she had, she tucked her things away, shed her leather boots, and sprinted off toward the mud before Gunda or Hróarr could stop her.

She laughed to herself as she walked over the mud, carefully balancing as the wet ground tugged at her bare feet. She eventually found a path where the slick surface was more stable and walked out toward the island as far as she could. She heard Gunda shouting for her from the shore, but she ignored her as she came to a stop at a point between the English coast and the small island. She would have tried to walk all the way to the island to explore, but she could tell the tide would come in too soon, preventing her from reaching solid ground. For that moment, though, she imagined herself standing in the middle of the sea, with cold water lapping at her ankles rather than dark muck gripping her feet.

A shiver ran down her spine and she turned her face to the sky. White clouds floated above her, some were wisps, others looked as soft and fluffy as a sheep's coat. A breeze fluttered through her hair as she watched the clouds billow and collide and slowly darken the sky. A chill set in just as she turned back to the shore and she hopped her way through the muck while the wind grew stronger. She made it to her friends at the first distant rumble of thunder and grinned at Gunda who waited with a linen towel and disapproving frown.

She hurried to wipe the mud from her feet before the sky turned grey and raindrops began to splatter onto their brows. She ran for their horses with a laugh, didn't bother with her shoes as she mounted her mare, and the trio quickly raced away from the shore to find shelter from the storm. She shrieked when the rain came down harder just before they came to a thick growth of trees. It was cold and hard, but refreshing. It made the whole world smell fresh as it pummeled the trees over their head and the grass and soil under their feet.

Hróarr settled their horses against the trunk of a large oak, soothing them as best he could as the thunder rumbled louder above them. Nami skipped barefoot over dirt and acorns to the edge of the canopy to tilt her head back to feel the rain fall onto her face. Gunda was behind her, heaving an exasperated sigh as she urged Nami to come back under the thicker boughs before she caught her death from a chill, but Nami wasn't afraid of the rain, or the thunder, or the brilliant flashes of lightning that tendrilled through the sky.

She had never felt more alive.

She snatched Gunda by the arm and dragged her out into the rain, laughing as their clothes were soaked through in the downpour. Gunda's dark brown hair was a sopping wet mess, clinging to her flushed cheeks as she frowned at her. She looked like a poor cat that had the bad luck of falling into a river, but she still grudgingly let Nami spin her around in the rain, and eventually her sour mood broke the longer Nami made her play. Soon it was Hróarr urging for them to get back under the canopy as they danced and laughed.

A crack of thunder brought their dance to an end. Nami froze to stare wide-eyed at the sky as the world seemed to shake with the sound. Another rattling boom took her breath away, as though Thor had struck her chest with his hammer. A brilliant flash lit up the sky and Nami stood blind to the world around her.

The vision that came to her was flickering, disjointed, utterly senseless. It was nothing like her dreams. It was devoid of the rich details, no heart-breaking emotions to shatter her hopes. One moment she saw a boat floating out in a bay, innocent and non-descript save for the rats scuttling about the hull. It was gone with a flash of light, replaced by a golden spear. Another crackle of lightning brought the image of a man standing on a dock, his back to her, with gold wrapping around his arms and waist and head. He flickered with another flash and she saw the spear again. The water roiled to life around it. A fish floated up, and then another, and another, and another, until the whole fjord was flooded with the corpses of fish and whales and stank of their decay.

The last flash took her breath away again. She stood in stunned silence at the figure that towered over her, his red hair hidden beneath the dark pelt of a wolf, its gaping, ferocious jaws hanging over his brow and leaving his face in shadows. He stared at her, his eyes alight with the flames of desire, heating her chilled body with only one look. She drew in a sharp breath as bloodstained fingers brushed over her cheek and down her jaw. Her lips parted as his thumb teased over them, reminding her of how they ached for his kiss once it was gone.

He leaned in closer. She shut her eyes with a quiet sigh as she heard a growl rumble in his chest. A drop struck her lips instead of his kiss and her eyes shot open at the bitter tang of blood. His red hair turned to liquid before her very eyes, trickled over his brow and nose and cheeks until he was bathed in it.

And then with another flash he was gone and she found herself on her knees in cold, wet grass, her shieldmaiden clinging to her shoulders.

"Lady Nami," Gunda called, panic lacing her voice.

"Give her to me," Hróarr ordered before a warm fur was tossed over her head. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the trees while she shivered against his chest. "The oak will protect her."

He set her down on the driest patch of ground he could find and leaned her back against the trunk of the tree. He cupped her cheek, drawing her gaze to his deep scowl, and then he was shoved away, his face replaced by Gunda's as her shieldmaiden fussed and worried. Her hand pressed to her forehead, checking for fever. She pried at her eyes, even though they were open and seeing again. She fretted and muttered about being so reckless.

Nami was too entrenched in her thoughts to listen or respond. The vision had left her awestruck. It was powerful and filled her with a sense of foreboding, but not terror, nor grief. She wasn't yet certain what it all meant, how it would all come together, but the warning was clear.

Her hand curled in the soil beneath her, the hard shell of an acorn tucked into her palm.

A storm was coming, and it was up to her to guide them through it.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This chapter was going to be longer, but as I was writing Kid's next part, I realized it might be too_ _long, so I've decided to split it up. Also that last line is perfect for the end of a chapter, lol. Since I already have a huge chunk of the next chapter written, I'm hoping it won't be too long to finish this part._

 _Some notes on spiritual imagery I use in this: The 'raidho' rune is a symbol of travel and journey on horseback, quite simply. It's actually my favorite rune, and Wardruna's song for it is just so beautiful and always inspiring for me. Anyway, it is also symbolic of finding one's inner wisdom and the path back to right, thus the reason for Nami's journey in the chapter._

 _As for Nami's vision, pretty sure the imagery's reference is blatantly obvious - Thor. Since Enel's arc is next, I will be making more and more references to Thor. The next chapter has more on him, as well. Significant imagery in this chapter for him, besides the lightning and thunder, are the oak and acorn. The oak is considered scared to Thor and ancient wisdom said that an oak will always provide protection in a storm (ignore common knowledge that says you should never hide under a tree in a lightning storm... then again, you shouldn't be out in a lightning storm at all). Acorns are common offerings to Thor, as well, to signify his connection to oak._

 _I'll discuss Thor more in the next chapter's notes since I will make further reference to his role in the Norse Pantheon, especially considering he will be connected to Enel in this fic who, like the Arlong-Aegir connection, is not perfectly representative of him. He fills a twisted, darker role, but the gods in the Norse Pantheon are complex, imperfect beings. They don't even pretend to be perfect, without flaw, and that includes the gods we would view as the 'heroes' or the 'good'. Even Loki is not viewed as 'evil' in this belief system. He serves his own role, and that role is not necessarily counter to what is viewed as good, at least not until the end._

 _Keep that in mind when seeing how 'Dumah's' story plays out._

 _Oh, and I saw that a few people were still unsure on his identity. I don't want you to be left-out in knowing, yet I still don't want to say his name, lol. The big hint in the last chapter, other than the whole 'wanting to see someone's world burn', was in the identity of his friend. In canon his friend is not human, but he still has white hair (fur), dresses in orange, and has a penchant for giving 'bear hugs' to his friends. Keep in mind that while Arlong and Enel are obvious villains since they were villains in canon, this character is not meant to be an obvious 'villain' in the same sense that they are, just as Loki's role as an antagonist in the sagas is not always cut and dry. He's elusive, his motives are his own, and he's just as willing to be an ally and protagonist when it suits him. And as I said before, the name he will introduce himself with next will make it a thousand times more obvious since it is a name close to his 'heart'._

 _I really should just say his name, but noooooooooooooooooooo he wants to be a mysterious dork._

 _And before you wonder - no, there will be no love triangle with him involved. Not really. Kid's point of view might make it seem that way, but everyone else's point of view will make it clear that it's not._


	20. Chapter 20

_Warnings: Violence, gore, minor sexual content._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Paths_

Dawn came and Kid was as awake as he had been the night before when the sun vanished over the horizon. Sleep continued to allude him and not because of the dangers that came out in the open.

His shoulder and side ached in a way that made lying down impossible. The pressure was uncomfortable, and the chances of rising again were low as his limbs grew stiff. He was forced to sit against the trunk of a tree and endure the knots and cramps that formed in his neck the longer he slumped there. He wanted to be in his bed of furs, drunk on wine or ale or mead or whatever concoction Heat might make to knock him free of his senses, but no, he had to seek his vengeance and flee the only other comfort he desired beyond sleep.

It was strange to feel lonely when he was surrounded by his companions. Any conversation he deigned to have with them felt hollow. He didn't care about anything they had to say, gave no comment on whatever tales they told. Killer was the only one there he would care enough to talk to, but his cousin was as silent as ever. Though the frowns and withering glares he sent said more than any words ever could.

Kid was being a fool. Utterly pathetic as he sat in his silent despondency. He succumbed to temptation and blamed her for it. Then ran away before he could fall any further, only to leave himself miserable and angry. He wanted nothing more than to go back to camp, sneak into her bed, and find solace in her arms. Assuming she would still let him in her bed. He might have already lost the intimacy they had by shunning her again.

His life seemed to have turned into a convoluted mess in the matter of a single night. But the world never changed so abruptly. No, what seemed like a sudden, unforeseen change was rooted in seemingly insignificant moments, unconscious thoughts, forgettable decisions. Where did it all begin? When did he start on this path that had led him to desire nothing but her smile and affection?

Was it all because of the nights he peeked at her nudity? Was it only lust that inspired him? No. They lit a flame in him, but he was already soft to her, filled with a warm affection he spared for no one else. Was it the night they sat on the beach after he bared a piece of his soul to her, told her a part of his life he would not speak of to anyone else? Or later that night, during the pre-dawn twilight, when he cradled her on the beach as she broke down in front of him and let him see the burden she alone carried? Possibly, though he wondered if it was even long before that night he had found his path. Did it go back to the night he found her, starving and feverish, brought to him by the gods for a task he couldn't allow himself to turn away from?

He had fled the camp in the hopes his errand would clear his turbulent mind, but the distance only left him riddled with more thoughts than before. It would have been maddening if he hadn't found one thought to cling to, a simple question he wanted to know the answer to.

 _What was she doing?_

He wondered how she was faring while he was gone. Was she sleeping better than he was? Was her wounded shoulder bringing her the same pain he endured? Was she reading that book? Was she drawing a map? Was she studying her runes? Tending the injured? Grieving her losses? He found more comfort thinking about what she might be doing without him there, than thinking on the hollow pit growing in his chest with every day he was away and how that strange feeling came to exist inside him in the first place.

"Kid, we're ready to go," Killer said, breaking him from his circling thoughts. His cousin stood above him, lips set in another scowl that told him he knew where his mind was. He said nothing on the matter, but Kid wondered how much longer he would remain silent to it.

Killer held out a hand to pull him to his feet and helped steady him when his hip cramped the second he was up. He seemed to be getting worse rather than better. He probably should have taken one more day of rest before seeking Urouge out, but he was too stubborn to listen to sense after that night with Nami. And now, because of his impatience and temper, he wouldn't even be able to fight the Saxon lord himself. If he lived long enough, and Lucci didn't kill the bastard, Kid would return to make his own challenge. He would keep his word and leave the citizens alone, but he wanted to prove himself against that giant, as well as the flower loving, half-berserker knight to the south.

Kid waited for the others to mount their horses and waved for them to go ahead of him. Climbing onto his horse was going to be a pain with his shoulder throbbing, he didn't want them to witness his folly if he struggled. Only Killer stayed behind, but he would never mock Kid for any show of weakness. And he could honestly use the help. It took three tries to pull himself up and swing his leg over the saddle. Killer held the horse steady, but to Kid's relief, he didn't need more assistance than that.

"You're going to be bed-ridden for a month at the pace you're going," Killer commented as he easily climbed into his saddle. He kicked his horse into a canter, ignoring Kid's glare. "Then again, after what I saw the other night, you might not mind so much. Assuming Nami joins you."

Kid hissed as he followed Killer. "That won't happen again."

"You say that now…"

"It won't," Kid growled.

"You looked far more comfortable on top of her than you do your horse right now," Killer idly pointed out. "Mounting her might have been easier, too."

Kid snarled at his cousin. He might agree with Killer's crude remark, but he didn't appreciate hearing it aloud. He was miserable enough as it was. Thinking of how soft Nami's body was beneath him, how warm her lips were against his, how sweetly she moaned, and how good it would have felt to sink inside her and bask in ecstasy with her, was only making things worse for him. He didn't want to regret his decision to stop before he crossed that line any further, nor his decision to never cross it again.

"If it were any other woman, I might believe you when you say that you won't be in such a position with her again. But this is Nami… You won't be able to restrain yourself," Killer added.

"And why the fuck not? What makes you think she's so special?" Kid asked, his tone snide and biting. He knew the answer, but he refused to admit that she _was_ special. And not because of her family. Maybe if he sank further into denial then the feelings would go away.

Killer sent him a look that said he knew those questions were nothing but a farce. When Kid refused to give in, Killer turned forward with a long sigh. "Because you care for her."

"So? I care for a lot of people…" Kid stubbornly muttered. Killer shot him another disbelieving look and Kid glared back. " _I do_. I care for my men. I care for you."

"It's not the same. Though, your care for me might be comparable. You confide in her as much as you do with me, and you welcome her own confidences. But you haven't pinned me down and groped my breast, so I think it's safe to say your fondness for her is a touch different," Killer argued.

"That was just lust," Kid huffed. "Lust means nothing. I feel lust plenty of the time, for plenty of people. I can ignore lust."

"Not toward a woman you can't take your eyes from. Not toward a woman you would bend the will of the gods for if it would make her smile just a little brighter. Not toward a woman who brings peace to your heart rather than rage, even in the worst throes of an argument with her. You've wanted her since the moment you first saw her, and that desire has only grown stronger with every day she's been in your company."

Kid hissed, unable to refute him. He had wanted her then, but it had been a passing thought easily shoved aside when she _clearly_ would not want him. _Could not_ want him. And he knew that he _couldn't_ want her, that he wasn't _supposed_ to want her.

"You've hardly eaten since we left camp. Hardly slept. You're miserable without her and it's only been a few days," Killer pointed out. "There is more to what you feel than lust, and that is why it will be impossible for you to resist her again."

"Then take my head now," Kid grumbled. "If you believe that I can't control myself with her, then end it before I can hurt her."

"No," Killer said bluntly. "You would never hurt her," he added. "No matter how mad you might become, you could never stand the sight of her blood on your hands. Even the slightest hint of fear in her eyes upon looking at you would drive you away before you could give reason for it. And that's assuming you go mad in the first place. I have my doubts about that, too."

Kid's brow rose. "How so?" he asked, unsure whether to give thought to the hope blooming inside him. He felt like he was going to lose his mind every time he restrained himself. He could safely say battling against his own urges had proved the toughest fight he had known in his life.

"You become miserable and angry only when you push her away. If you give in, enjoy whatever feelings have blossomed between you two, I can only see you being happier than you've ever been."

"If I give in, and Nami gives in, it might provide comfort for a brief time, but it won't last. I'm not meant to have her. No one is," Kid argued. "Even if we are victorious in the battle against her giant and I survive, I can't possibly keep her. She'll want to enjoy her freedom. She'll want to see the world like she always dreamed. She won't want to stay with me."

"Why not?" Killer asked. "Why can't you sail with her? You mean to be a king in legend, to journey to other lands and bring back their treasures, why not take her with you? Give her something truly priceless to her, and I imagine she would happily stay by your side."

"It's still forbidden by our gods," Kid reminded. "She's not to be claimed by any man. If I took her, I would have to be separated from her."

"Is it truly forbidden, though?" Killer mused. "We were not given any rules when Eir left her with us. Odin sent no messengers. Nor Freyja or Hnoss. All we were told came from Nami, from the tales she was told. And even those tales only speak of unworthy men who claimed her foremothers as slaves to be possessed. I do not believe you would claim her as anything less than a lover… Or maybe a wife."

Kid's head snapped around to glare incredulously at his cousin. Killer merely chuckled as he wore a knowing smile, and the look made Kid's cheeks warm against his will.

"She wouldn't marry me," he insisted. "Even if I desired it. I'm not worthy of her any more than those men were worthy of her foremothers. Even if I don't go mad, even if I don't try to turn her into a slave for my own uses, I'm still no good for her. I'll just bring her misery."

"You haven't brought her anything of the sort." Killer snorted. "And I'd say you're the worthiest man that I know. You bear the spirit of Odin within you. How can you be anything but worthy?"

"What are you getting at with this conversation?" Kid growled. "If you mean to get my hopes up, to push me to action, then it won't work. I've made my decision. I won't touch her again."

Killer released a long sigh. "You are a blind fool."

"What was that?" Kid growled.

Killer didn't balk at his anger. "You're a fool," he repeated firmly. "You know the story of Nami's heritage far better than I, but what I do know is that you would surely live up to that family's standards. If Frejya could not only marry Odr, a god as prone to frenzy as Odin, but even love him so dearly that she cries tears of gold in his absence, then I have no doubt that she would give her blessing to any union that might reflect her own. If Nami is truly destined to be the end of this lineage and curse, then surely that means she is destined to live her life however she pleases, with whomever she desires, free of the burden of her mothers. Don't cast that possibility aside just because you're an idiot… And afraid."

"I ain't afraid," he said lowly, glaring at Killer.

Killer snorted. "Yes, you _are._ You're utterly terrified and have no idea what to do about it." Kid made to argue his statement again, but Killer leveled him with a stare that said he had no choice but to sit there and listen to his opinion. He slumped in his saddle with a stifled growl and sneered at his cousin. "You aren't afraid of dying for her. You've never feared the thought of dying in battle, especially if it means protecting anyone who depends on you. You aren't even afraid of this supposed curse. I think your worries about going mad are just an excuse to drive yourself away from her. The only thing that scares you is the possibility of her rejection."

Kid's annoyance left him as he thought on that. Killer was correct about what he _didn't_ fear. Agreeing to take Nami under his protection had been an easy decision, even with the knowledge that it would lead to his death. He had only known her for a day and he felt no unease about the danger that could be brought to him or his men. He would protect her, without question, without hesitation. The glory he would likely receive for his sacrifice was an afterthought, not even a conscious part of his decision. The only thought that drove him to that path was the desire not to let the spark of fire inside her burn out.

He hadn't given much consideration to her rejection, though he would admit it was inevitable. She had her own burdens to bear. Gaining her freedom was most important to her, and once she had that, even if he survived, there would be no holding her back from going wherever she desired. He might be able to persuade her to stay with the promise of taking her out to sea to explore the world, but she would eventually grow weary of his warring. Her pleas for mercy would continue to go unheeded and she would get fed up with a man as violent as the man who usurped her former Jarl. His home, his crew, was not a place she would desire to remain if given a choice. And if he refused to give her a choice, he didn't know what would come of them. She would resent him. A wedge would form between them. She would leave him without question.

If he were honest with himself, the thought of how he might react to that _did_ scare him.

"You're cynical by nature," Killer continued. "Nami seems to care greatly for you, but I'm sure you have your doubts. You were tricked into believing that your father felt a warm regard for you, while the people who did genuinely care for you didn't ply you with overly kind words and gestures. You were taught to doubt a person's intentions when they came to you with flattery or friendship."

"Nami hardly ever flatters me," Kid pointed out. "And her friendship comes with plenty of sharp barbs to counter whatever kindnesses she shows me."

"Yet you still doubt her affections. You said so yourself. You don't believe she'll willingly remain with us in Drafn, you believe that she will leave as soon as she is able. And when you catch yourself believing that she does care, you immediately tarnish the thought by proclaiming yourself unworthy of her. You have your father's mockery echoing in your ears when you think that way. You remember him saying that you weren't worthy of being recognized as a son, that you weren't even worthy of being recognized as the dog shit under his boot, and you decide that he was right, or that Nami thinks the very same as he did and is merely using you for her own security." Killer sighed as they spied the others waiting ahead in the field, the Saxon lord already standing ready to battle at the entrance of his village. "I doubt Nami means to use you. She was adamant about leaving us before she could bring about your downfall, and her grief over Finn's death was genuine enough for me to believe she would not risk our lives if she could avoid it. She might not always be honest, but I don't think she's misleading you with any of this. Though, I doubt she's even fully aware of what's happening between you two, either. At least she wasn't until you made it abundantly clear that there is something other than friendship tying you two together. And she might be as ready to run from it as you are, but that doesn't mean she thinks less of you. It just means she's scared, too."

Killer turned to him with a confident smile. "My last advice for you… If there's something you desire, you shouldn't let anything stop you from attaining it. Not even the gods. You are stronger than their curse. Nami is, too, and she's growing stronger by the day now that she's resolved to bring her foremother's prophecy to fruition. Together, I have faith that you two can overcome any obstacle that stands in your way."

He trotted away as Kid sank into thought. Could it be possible? Could he prove his worth to her? Could he break the curse that destroyed her clan? He had his doubts, but he wanted to hope. The thought of having her made the gnawing ache in his chest lessen. He felt a little stronger, a little better, a little less heavy with fatigue. He wanted to finish his task and race back to camp to see her, to be greeted by her smile and laughter, to see her eyes sparkle with happiness. He'd even happily take on her fiery anger and listen to her rebuke him for pushing her away again. He didn't even care if she hit him, so long as he could hold her and kiss her until she forgave him.

"You certainly took your time," Urouge bellowed across the field once Kid was near.

He pushed his thoughts aside. He could address them when they were finished with the lord. "Are you in such a rush to reach your grave?" Kid called back, forcing a grin. "I didn't think you would mind living a few minutes longer."

Urouge's laughter echoed loud enough to spook some of the horses. He didn't appear concerned in the least. Either he didn't fear death, or he was that certain of his own victory. Maybe it was both.

Kid slipped off his horse and handed the reins to Killer. Lucci joined him as Kid limped toward the Saxon, his hand flexing around the sword on his hip. He had pulled his hair back into a tight tail and shed his shirt to bear the cat-like spots tattooed on his back. His eyes held a feral glint, his lips twitched with a slight smirk. He was ready to prove himself in a real battle. Even if he fell on that field, he would fight with everything he had.

The bird he had befriended sat on his shoulder until they came to a halt. Lucci flicked a finger at the bird's feet and it flew off to watch with the horses.

Kid introduced Lucci and reaffirmed his promise that this battle would settle the score, that he would leave the village alone no matter the outcome. Urouge held his hand out, and Kid took it to seal the agreement with a firm handshake. He managed to keep his expression neutral, even when he felt his hand crack from the Saxon's grip. He was certain that something broke, but he refused to slacken his own grip, and didn't show his pain as he let his hand fall limp at his side.

"No armor?" Urouge asked, his grin as joyful as it was when Kid left him the day before.

Lucci's smirk grew. "I have no need for it."

Urouge set his long sword aside and tugged at the leather strings of his light armor. "Then neither do I," he explained. One of his men rushed toward him to take the armor he threw aside, as well as the brown tunic he shed. Kid didn't know what to think when he appeared even bigger without the extra layers on his torso. His frame was built with rippling muscles that looked hard enough to break a man's fist on. Dark blue tattoos wrapped around his upper arms like curling ribbons of fire stretching downward. He truly could have passed for one of their giants. Maybe even one of their gods.

Kid desperately wished he could be the one to fight him. He even hoped the Saxon defeated his ally just so he would be guaranteed his own chance to battle him in the future. He couldn't sway Lucci from his battle, and there was no persuading him to go easy on Urouge. That would be an insult to both men. Instead, he turned to Lucci with a grin.

"Try not to kill him too quickly," he said quietly and headed back to watch with the others. He was grateful to see that the men gathered near an outcropping of rocks. He eased himself down onto one that sat high enough for him to have a good view of the field and wouldn't be too difficult to stand from.

The fighters stood ten paces apart as Urouge's men and the bolder villagers came to watch the fight as if it were one of their tournaments. Most of the Saxons avoided the rocks he and his men sat on. They wore bandages that reminded them never to trust the Norsemen who brought nothing but war and misery to their lands. Their bravery likely came from the giant that ruled over them. They had faith he and his soldiers would protect them if anything went awry. But Kid noticed a few of the younger boys slip closer, creeping around the rocks as they eyed them with the same curiosity they might a stray dog. Some were halted with sharp calls from a parent, but others were heedless to the danger and received no rebuke from the adults. They were likely orphans, or perhaps from families that didn't care what they got up to. Kid grinned at one that dared to sit on a rock just within his reach. The boy jumped in surprise when he took notice of Kid's gaze on him and nearly fell from his perch before Kid caught him by the arm, righting him with a hard tug. He held a finger to his lips to signal his silence, then pointed toward the clearing as Urouge and Lucci began to circle, their swords ready to strike at the first opening.

Kid was curious how this match would play out. He knew Lucci was stronger than his lithe frame appeared, but Urouge was undoubtedly stronger. Kid's swelling hand was proof of that. Perhaps Urouge's size would prove his downfall. Large men like him don't always carry the same speed and endurance as someone of Lucci's stature. He might tire out if Lucci whittled at him, took his time, and waited for the best opening to strike the final blow. But Kid had seen that man land a crushing blow to Killer's chest, and his cousin was by no means slow in a fight. He had been flitting around the man, striking and retreating, over and over, before he was caught. He had crumpled to the ground with one solid hit. That might be all it took.

The battle began when Lucci shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow. His sword was angled at his side, prepared to slash at Urouge as he sprinted by. The Saxon shifted to block with his long sword. The movement appeared slow compared to Lucci, and Kid wasn't surprised to see Lucci adjust to strike at the side Urouge left open in his block. But Urouge had expected that too and jumped back to avoid a cut, then lifted his sword to block another slash. His bellowing laughter rang out louder than the clash of their swords.

Kid leaned forward, eagerly watching as the Saxon fought on the defense. He smacked away one blow after another while he backed from Lucci's rapid advance. The ring of steel against steel grew louder with each block. Urouge was putting all his strength into batting away Lucci's sword, searching for his own opening. When Lucci's sword was shoved away with enough force to completely open his stance, Urouge took advantage, pushing forward to cut into Lucci's side. He drew blood, but Lucci leaped away before the slash could turn fatal.

He didn't appear fazed in the least as he matched Urouge's grin with his own and launched forward for another round.

They went back and forth, trading blows and slashes until both bore their share of cuts on their torsos. Lucci managed to get behind Urouge at one point to leave a deep slash over the man's back. The Saxon returned the strike with a slash at Lucci's neck that came dangerously close to ending the fight. The miss brought the first look of annoyance to Urouge's face that morning, but hardly deterred him as he caught Lucci's next assault and tangled their swords together.

Kid could see the sweat on Urouge's brow as he locked his sword with Lucci's and pushed at the smaller man with all his might. Lucci braced against the giant, his jaw clenched as he struggled to hold his ground. Urouge pushed him back two steps before Lucci could replant his feet for a firmer stance. He twisted his sword until Lucci's was pinned beneath his. As soon as the steel touched the ground, Urouge took a large step forward and stomped on the flat of the sword to hold it down.

That single step was enough to bend the steel as if it were nothing more than ribbon.

Urouge had a large advantage with Lucci so close. With the sword pinned under his foot, Urouge was free to lift his own sword to slash at Lucci. He first threw his elbow into Lucci's face to disorient him. Kid heard the crushing blow from where he sat and watched Lucci's head fall back, his nose bloody and broken from that single hit. Kid thought it was over as Urouge brought his sword arcing around in a path that would slice Lucci's head off. He held his breath, anticipating the end.

Lucci let his momentum take him back, ducking the arc of the blade over his head as he fell to the ground. He had no sword to fight with or block as Urouge adjusted and brought his sword down toward him, so all he could do was roll away from the strike, and then roll again when Urouge stepped toward him with the intent of pinning the man just as he had the sword. When he rolled to his stomach, he found his feet and leaped up with the grace of a cat, dodging another strike as he did. Kid caught his quick glance toward his bent sword. The weapon would hold little value to him as it was, but he could see Lucci thinking as he continued to retreat from Urouge's assaults.

Urouge was tiring, just as Kid thought he would. He was panting for air, but appeared no less determined to end the fight. He had a near taste of victory and he needed more. Lucci would not be so easy to take down, even weaponless he had not yet lost. In a burst of speed, he got behind the giant again and then leaped up onto the man's back. Urouge thrashed with his sword as Lucci wrapped an arm around his thick neck and held on tight. His free hand fumbled at his belt until he found his slender hunting knife.

He struck viciously with his knife, aiming for Urouge's neck. The Saxon reacted before he could be killed and cried out as the blade sank deep into his palm. Lucci tried to pull it free and make for another attack, but Urouge wrapped his hand around Lucci's to hold the blade there and spun them toward the rocks.

Kid's eyes widened as he watched them stumble back toward the outcropping he sat on. The men scattered and Kid reacted without thinking as he snatched the Saxon boy's arm and dragged him against his side. A second later, Urouge slammed Lucci's back into the rock the boy had been sitting on. They watched as Lucci was crushed against the stone until his hold slackened on Urouge's neck. Urouge freed himself and spun to slash his sword down on Lucci, hopefully for the last time.

Lucci rolled away and the sword struck the rock with enough force to shatter the metal. Kid ducked the shards that flew toward him and used his thick furs to catch the ones that nearly struck the boy.

Urouge was weaponless. Lucci was down to a knife that wouldn't do him any good unless he got in close to the giant. They each stumbled away from the rocks, panting for air as they stared each other down. The fight wouldn't last much longer now, and they both knew it.

Lucci lunged first again. Urouge moved to the side and threw a punch. It was dodged and Lucci took advantage of the opening to slam his knife into the Saxon's side. Urouge only spared a pained grimace, a stifled shout. He didn't waste a second in taking his own advantage of Lucci's proximity and grabbed him by the arm before he could leap away.

The Saxon boy hidden in his furs flinched at the audible crack of Lucci's arm breaking. Even Kid felt his gut roil at the sound, but he didn't show his discomfort so openly.

Lucci showed no sign of the break hurting him. For the entire battle, the man showed no pain, no matter how viciously he was cut or struck. Kid wondered if he felt pain at all.

Lucci clung to Urouge's arm, agilely flipping up to slam his heel into Urouge's face. The Saxon staggered back, blood flowing from his mouth to clot in his thick beard. Lucci fell to his feet and jumped back a step. His right arm hung limp at his side, and his knife was still embedded in Urouge, but that didn't deter him as he pushed off to lunge again. Urouge spat out a thick glob of blood and met Lucci's next strike with a vicious grin. Lucci was poised to tackle him at the waist. Urouge bent down to catch him, but Lucci went lower and led with his feet, tripping the Saxon and forcing him to crash onto his back. Lucci was up again to strike the man while he was down and slammed his knee into Urouge's chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He threw a punch, and another, and another, fast and relentless. The villagers around them held their collective breath as their lord was beaten to a bloody pulp.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kid watched Kaku step forward, ready to drag his friend off the lord, but froze when Urouge captured Lucci's wrists. His face was swollen and slick with blood, unrecognizable, but Kid could see the white gleam of his teeth as he once again grinned.

The fight was over when his head smashed into Lucci's and another crack rang out through the field. Lucci struggled to hold his consciousness as he swayed above Urouge. The Saxon lord dared to release one of his hands, but Lucci was too disoriented to do more than slowly lift his fist. Urouge's strike reached Lucci first, knocking him out cold with one last punch. He fell limp to the ground, shoved aside by his opponent, and the field remained silent for one heartbeat.

The villagers erupted into cheers while his men sat in stunned silence, all of them gaping at the loss they just witnessed. All except for Kid. He was too thrilled at witnessing the battle to care that his ally lost.

The village's celebration was abruptly cut off when he stood from his perch, a firm grip on the Saxon boy's shoulder. No one had noticed him up until that point, but now that the battle was complete, they all realized the danger the child was in and cried out in alarm. Kid didn't release him as he took a step toward the Saxon lord, shoving the boy along as a convenient hostage. Urouge's soldiers took up their arms while the villagers began to stagger back, their courage leaving them as their lord remained prone on the ground. He was in no condition to save the child, or any of them.

Kaku followed him at a distance as they approached the downed fighters. The soldiers shifted forward, wary and uncertain, but Urouge slowly lifted a bloody hand to wave them off. He groaned in pain as he turned to look at Kid through one eye, the other swollen shut. His smile was lopsided thanks to a split lip. Cuts littered his face. His deep brown skin was mottled with purple and blue, stained red with more blood. But despite his myriad injuries he managed to force out a choked laugh.

"Thank you for protecting the boy," he said.

That single statement broke the tension in his soldiers. They sheathed their swords, backing down to let Kaku check on Lucci while Kid came to stand beside Urouge.

"He wasn't afraid to get close. I like brats that show a little back-bone, they make for decent fighters when they grow up. Figured it would be a waste to see him crushed by his own lord while watching such an entertaining battle," Kid explained. He released the boy's shoulder to grab him by the head, shaking it around playfully as he struggled in his grip. "He got a family?"

"Bastard child orphaned at birth. Father was a mercenary working for a Danish king; from Svealand, I believe. Vanished shortly after he was conceived, and the mother's family wanted nothing to do with her or the boy, so they refused him when his mother died in childbirth," Urouge said, eyeing the child. "He's kept at the church, under the priest's supervision. Performs whatever chores they need of him while learning his scripture and letters to one day be of service to our Lord. Why do you ask?"

Kid chuckled. "I'm known for collecting strays, got a hall full of 'em. Your men killed some of them, including a young man the lady of my hall happened to be fond of. I might be thinking to bring her back a new stray to fawn over. She's good with kids."

Urouge's grin vanished. "You will only take that boy as a slave over my dead body."

Kid laughed, crouching down with an arm around the now frightened child fighting to escape his hold. "You're already half-dead, maybe more. Not much of a threat there. And I never said I'd take him as a slave. I won't have him doing any more than your church makes him do. Even if I wanted to treat him like shit, doubt my lady would let me. She'd beat my ass to a bloodier pulp than your face is right now. Then beat me again just for the hell of it. Might make me sleep in the stables, too, that way the horses can beat me some more. The brat would be nothing but doted on by her."

Urouge laughed with him a moment, then broke it off to groan as he clutched the knife still wedged in his side. "As reassuring as that is, I still can't hand over one of our children. My people would never forgive me if I just let one of you heathens take off with him. Orphaned bastard or not, he's still one of us."

"Tsh, fine," Kid grumbled, shoving the boy away. He watched the child sprint off toward the village where he was stopped by a man dressed in the plain brown robes of a monk. He was snagged by the arm and dragged off while receiving a lecture. Kid felt a moment of pity for the poor boy as he glanced back over his shoulder at the field. He obviously didn't want to be lectured. Kid could relate.

"I suppose I owe you answers to the questions you have," Urouge said. "But I need my injuries tended, as does your ally."

Kid glanced over his shoulder to where Lucci lay. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. His nose was broken and his whole face swollen. His torso was as bruised and bloody as Urouge's. And his broken forearm sat at an unnatural angle, though Kaku was already attempting to reset it.

"I can see you mean to keep your word not to harm my people, if you did not, that boy would likely be dead," Urouge said. Kid looked back at him with a glare. Even he wouldn't kill an innocent boy, at least not without provocation to give him good reason. His simmering annoyance was ignored as Urouge waved his men over to help him up. "Since our score is settled and you mean to be peaceful visitors to my territory from here on out, I see no reason not to invite you and a few of your men as my guests. My healer can see to Lucci, and we can discuss the matter of that false monk over a very strong wine."

Kid snorted. "You're willingly offering me drink after what I did to your people?"

"None of them died, and I'm not a man to hold a grudge unnecessarily. I'm sure those soldiers you returned perished from their injuries, nothing more." Urouge's one good eye glinted to give away the lie he knew he was telling. If Kid wished to join him inside his home, to question him about the monk that sent them after Nami, then he would be wise not to claim any knowledge of the sacrifices he made of those soldiers. "I know your people are not so dishonorable as to betray the trust given as a guest in another household, even if your concept of civility is poorly lacking compared to ours. You will abide by the same rules all men do when given food and shelter. If you do not, then I have just cause to see you all hanged. And I know you would rather avoid that."

Kid couldn't argue, and he had been desperate for some wine. Shrugging his acquiescence, he stood and waved at the others while Urouge's men got him sorted. He sent half the men back to their camp to wait. Before they went, he hollered for them to grab one of Urouge's soldiers, a hostage to see that Urouge did not contemplate killing those that entered his hall, lest he lose another man. Urouge waved at the soldiers that thought to fight when they saw their peer taken, reassuring them that he would be returned as soon as Kid and his men left his home.

They were escorted into the village by Urouge and his men. Kid led his companions as they followed the soldiers carrying the lord toward his home. Kaku and one of Franky's men had Lucci slung over their shoulders, dragging him along behind them. The only sign of life that came from the man was the odd groan when a foot was dragged roughly over a rock and the ragged, wet breaths he struggled to take in. Kid was confident he would survive, but he likely wouldn't regain consciousness anytime soon, and getting him back to Álasund was not going to be pleasant.

The fortress Urouge and his men led them to was larger than the knight's manor to the south, and far simpler in its design, lacking the decorative engravings of Cavendish's home. It was built to protect the people within its buttressed walls, not to look pretty. A heavy wooden gate opened for them to pass between guard towers. Kid was wary of the narrow slits high above and watched for any sign of archers inside. He spotted the guards moving around, but none of them thought to attack their party.

Within the safety of the wall, a courtyard spread out in front of them that Kid imagined was large enough to fit all the people of the village within. Servants milled about, completing their chores rather than attend the battle in the field. To one end of the courtyard stood a church built with stone and wood. Small crosses were cut into the outer door in a latticework pattern. A red and yellow stained window could be seen on one side of the structure, but Kid could not make out what image was created with the glass from where he stood. The church's roof vaulted with a stone cross set just above the door that cast a shadow over part of the yard.

As they walked by, Kid noticed a garden beside the church and spotted the boy from earlier hunched over with a spade in hand. The monk that had grabbed him was still in the middle of a lecture as he set the boy to work on the weeds. The child glanced their way and gave Kid a pleading look that made him laugh. He could only guess how desperate that boy was to get out of his chores if he thought he would be saved by the heathen who had terrorized the villagers only two days before. Desperate or dumb.

They were greeted by three women as soon as they entered Urouge's home. They descended onto their lord with a mixture of worry and frustration, prompting the man to laugh as they scolded him for getting so injured. Urouge demanded they fetch 'the old man' and enough wine to make them all forget their aches, then waved for Kid and the rest to settle in his main hall. Servants came in to lay down straw and blankets for them to place Lucci on while Urouge lowered himself into a chair at the head of a grand table.

Kid took a seat at the table with Killer beside him. The women that greeted them returned with supplies and an old man with the same dark brown skin as the lord. He was much smaller than the nobleman, though. His skin was wrinkled with age, his beard coarse and grey, and he walked with a hunch in his shoulders as he leaned on a wooden cane. He tutted at Urouge in a language Kid couldn't even guess at, but he could understand the tone well enough to know he was scolding his lord, too. Urouge waved him off, grumbled orders in that same strange language, and gestured toward Lucci's prone body on the floor. The sight of the unconscious man earned even more ire from the old man, but he grudgingly went to him, a servant trailing behind, all while muttering more complaints.

"My great-uncle," Urouge explained as the women descended on him with water and bandages. "My mother's Muslim family held a great deal of knowledge in medicine and anatomy, nothing like what our Christian physicians practice here. My father arranged to have them brought with my mother after they married. They've been acting as our family's doctors since."

"I spoke with Cavendish's headsman about you. He mentioned you had Moorish family," Kid said as he accepted a cup of wine from a servant. "As well as family from my people's lands."

Urouge snorted before taking a deep quaff of wine. "Did Cavendish rant and rave to you about my filthy blood?"

"He was unconscious, but I heard plenty about my own evils from him. His headsman did tell me you weren't looked upon favorably by him, though. Do others vilify you as he does?"

"Some, but I've earned enough respect that most are wise enough to keep their prejudices to themselves." He angled his head to allow his healers to blot at a gash on his temple. He clenched his teeth with a grimace, but didn't shirk away from their treatment. "My father's heritage holds far less contempt than my mother's. It is true some of his family comes from Svealand, but they were at least Christians, and worked diligently to spread our faith and bring more of you pagans into the light of our God."

Kid snorted a laugh into his wine. Urouge glowered at him. "Your people may have converted some, but I know many that only take up your cross to avoid losing their heads. They still believe in our gods and mask their worship so their new Christian kings leave them in peace."

Urouge hummed. "I do not doubt that some converted under duress, but they still converted rather than delve into a war they could not win."

"I heard your father's family faced plenty of people willing to war with them," Kid said.

Urouge sighed. "They did. Once. There was a clan of women said to be born of a sea goddess, or some such, with a matriarchal lineage filled with the greatest witches and seers known to their people. They were revered as sacred creatures to the gods and refused to forsake their beliefs and the status they knew because of them. Their proximity to Birka created tension between their most devote and our own. They had allies among some of the oldest Birka families, too, one of which held a generations old alliance with them to provide many of their shieldmaidens. That family had been the one that stirred the most animosity against the Christian congregation in Birka when they first began to convert the pagans of the region. This family proclaimed themselves to be the thorn that would protect their northern rose, that they were the hammer of the gods and that they would be the ones to protect the old ways from the outsiders that would condemn them to die for their beliefs, that their fates were deeply intertwined with the women in Västerås.

"Many of the men in that family attempted to court the high priestess of each generation, and eventually one, despite being married to another, managed to father a daughter with the head priestess at that time. He then returned home to his wife and proceeded to go mad, attempted to slaughter all the Christians in Birka, and sent the region headlong into war before he was killed by the very priestess he had once laid with.

"My father's family left shortly after peace was forged with the Västerås clan and their devotees. Despite their continued refusals to give up their gods, the high priestess allied with the people of Birka, Christian and pagan alike, and sent her personal guard to deal with the uprising. She had said it was their duty to end the madness that they had caused, and that she did not wish to see so much innocent blood shed. The family that caused the uprising was exiled from the region. Even the shieldmaidens that had fought against their own kin in the war were cast out and shamed. Peace was restored. I understand generations passed without any further conflict between the pagan faction and the Christians." Urouge sank back with a thoughtful frown as he took another sip of wine. "I have not heard any news from Svealand in years. I wonder if they are still at peace."

Kid glowered into his cup. "That clan died eighteen years ago."

Urouge's good eyed widened. "The whole clan? How?"

"They were slaughtered by Christians," Kid said bluntly. "I cannot say if the people of Birka were involved. I know that at least one was from Normandy, the rest probably were, too." He held Urouge's gaze. "Only one girl survived."

Urouge stared at him in silence, weighing the news. With a deep sigh, he bowed his head. "I see. I am not fond of you or your false gods, but those women had only desired peace. They saw no fault in any that held a different faith, so long as they were left to their own gods. I am saddened to hear they met such a tragic end."

Kid grunted as he took a deep swallow from his wine.

"You said one girl survived… Was she the daughter of the priestess?" Urouge asked. Kid merely paused in his drink and glared at the lord from the corner of his eye. His glare deepened when Urouge smiled in response and leaned forward with a quiet chuckle. "I understand your ire with me now. Please extend my most heartfelt apologies and deepest condolences to your lady."

Kid grunted and finished off his wine. He didn't want to discuss Nami's family any further, it would only make him think of their fate and the curse that had plagued her since birth. And that would only make him angry again.

"You said your mother's family is not as well received as your father's," Kid said, glancing over at the old man binding Lucci's broken arm in a splint. "I've heard of the conflicts between Muslims and Christians. I'm surprised your father even married a Muslim woman."

Urouge chuckled. "In the eyes of the church, my mother was Christian, but she was raised in a house of mixed faith. Her mother had been Muslim before converting when she married my Norman grandfather, but she continued to practice her faith as she had been taught from birth, and my mother learned much from her. When my father married her, he saw no reason to change her preferred practice and felt the prejudices of others were unfounded and ignorant. We all worship the same God, the God of Abraham, all that differs is what book we take our faith from, which man we call Messiah and Savior. He believed, as did my mother, that they held the same God in their heart, and He is the one who bound them in matrimony, to bring union and understanding between their faiths, and to hopefully one day fulfill a higher purpose for Him. What anyone outside of our family thinks of their union matters not to this household."

He let out a jolly laugh that forced his nursemaids to pause in their treatment as his shaking messed up their efforts to bandage him. "As for Cavendish's own prejudices toward any of us, they are horribly inconsistent."

"How so?" Kid asked.

"There is a knight further south, around the region of Wales who is married to a woman that Cavendish is quite fond of, despite the fact she is in no way of Saxon blood. Her mother was a Rus, and her father was a Muslim scholar. She, herself, studied with many of her father's contemporaries and is remarkably brilliant. Knows more languages than I even knew existed. Cavendish bears no contempt for her, and I believe she frequently visits his manor to tour his rose garden," Urouge explained.

Kaku leaned forward from the spot he took near Lucci. "The Rus woman, is her family name Nico, by chance?"

Kid glanced over his shoulder with his brow raised in confusion. What did her name matter to him?

"I believe it is. Have you heard of her?" Urouge shared Kid's confusion as he tried to furrow his brows despite the swelling of his face.

Kaku smiled. "I've heard tales of her in Francia, that the scholars she studied under were considered heretics by Muslims and Christians alike, and that they were all to be put to death. The stories claim that a Norman man betrayed the Frankish king, helped her flee, and was then executed in her place."

"So they say." Urouge's smile was insincere, a warning held in the narrowing of his good eye. He said nothing more on the woman and turned back to Kid. "But you are not here to discuss my family, or any other. You wish to know about the monk that sent me to you. Unfortunately, I do not believe I can give you more information than you already received from my soldiers."

"Can you at least describe his face?" Kid growled.

Urouge shook his head solemnly. "He kept his face hidden in shadows. He was covered head to toe in his robes and even wore black gloves so I could not see his hands."

"And he didn't speak once?"

"Not once. Everything he had to say was written down. I can tell you he has a very messy scrawl. Looking back on that, I should have doubted him from his poor script alone. If he was truly a man of the church, he would have very careful and tidy script. The monks are tasked with painstakingly copying sacred texts. Their letters are immaculate."

Kid growled. "I don't give a shit about his letters. I just need to know what sort of man he is, who to watch out for."

Urouge sank back in his chair, humming thoughtfully. "He was rude, as far as I could gather. I invited him to break bread with me, but he refused. He kept himself apart from me and my men unless given no choice." The lord scratched at his beard. "I did hear him chuckle once. It was quiet and raspy, so I suppose if he spoke it would carry the same quality."

"What of his name? Dumah? You don't recognize it?"

Urouge chuckled. "I recognize it well enough to know it cannot be his true name." Kid cocked his head to the side, encouraging him to explain. "Dumah is a name from Hebrew lore. It is the name of an angel, one of silence and death. I will confess, not many Christians study the old text, even fewer are familiar with Hebrew folklore. For this man to know that name and its meaning, I suspect he has undergone a great deal of study, and not just from the Christian church."

Kid slouched in his seat, grumbling at the lack of answers he received. All he knew was this man lacked manners and gave a false name.

"I do not wish to give credence to your gods, but I feel this man is a trickster, or the agent of one," Urouge continued, rubbing at his beard as he struggled with his thoughts. "My father's family told many stories of their old gods. They said that Odin traveled the world and was known to many by different names, that the gods of other faiths may very well be one and the same. While I have my doubts that your Odin is comparable to our God, I can believe that your trickster Loki is comparable to the demons of our lore. He is an agent of chaos, a monster that throws the world into unrest, and one day will bring a war that will render our world to ashes. The man I met was cunning and kept his motives to himself. He used our faith to his advantage and abandoned us when it was not enough to attain what he wanted. His allegiance is unpredictable, just as Loki's can be. If you should ever meet a man as sly as Loki, I would keep a watchful eye on him."

Kid grunted his understanding. He had suspected Loki might have a hand in the camp's misfortune. Loki had been behind the misfortune that befell Hnoss. His motives for meddling with that family were as clouded as they ever were and Kid doubted he would ever understand what interest he had in their fate. He was an ally to their gods when it suited him, but he was never to be trusted.

"I did ask him about his intentions with your lady," Urouge added, his brows furrowed. "As strange as his desire to capture her is, I do not believe he has any malicious intentions toward her. He claimed her to be an angel so that we would take her alive and unharmed, and I have no doubt that he would have carried her off before we could learn that she is in fact a witch. Perhaps it was all an elaborate ruse to stir up trouble and war, nothing more. Perhaps his interest was feigned and now that we have warred, he has no further need of her. You might have no reason to fear for her safety."

"No. He will try to take her again," Kid growled. His instincts told him that the false monk was a threat to Nami, that they would see him again. If Loki was connected to him in any way, then he would cross their paths once more.

Anxiety roiled in his gut as he wondered how soon he might come for her again. He hadn't felt any unease when he left camp, and Nami had not told him of any new dreams that might warn of another attack, but that monk was still lurking about. What if he did come for her while he was gone on this errand? What if the men he left behind weren't enough to protect her against the next army that came for her? Even if there was no cruelty in the man's motives, he still meant to take her from him. Kid would not allow any man to take her from him, least of all a trickster hiding in the shadows.

"We can't linger here long," he said quietly to Killer. He spared a short glance to Lucci. He was covered in bandages and the old man appeared to be nearly done mending Lucci's broken nose. He turned his attention back to Urouge. "We have a long trek back to our camp, and I don't want to overstay our welcome."

"You worry for your people. I understand." Urouge nodded. "I would appreciate having my soldier returned soon, too. If I happen to see that false monk again, I will deal with him. He made blasphemous claims, after all. I cannot forgive his deceit any more than you can."

Kid grunted and gave a short nod as he unsteadily pushed himself from his chair. He would not count on Urouge seeing that man again. He wished he could, it would help him sleep better at night if he thought the monk was dead. But he was too certain that this was only the beginning of his schemes. If Loki was truly behind his appearance, then he would not be deterred by one failure.

"Is he well enough to be moved?" Kid gestured toward Lucci.

Urouge called to the man tending to him, asked him something in the tongue Kid didn't understand. The old man nodded, but then made some strange gesture as he spoke. Kid looked to the lord for an explanation.

"His injuries are severe. He can be moved, but you need to take great care." Urouge turned to one of the servant women. "Find them something to lay him on so they can carry him" he ordered them before turning back to Kid. "If he recovers well, I hope I never see him again. He was tenacious in battle. There were a few times I feared my defeat."

Kid snorted. "You don't appear to be close to dying any time soon. And if you fear the possibility of battling him again, why not just kill him?"

Kaku tensed at the question, but Urouge held up a hand to reassure the Norman. "That would be dishonorable. I agreed to single combat and the terms called for a defeat. He could no longer fight me therefore he was defeated. Anything more is unnecessary. And it was his terms that kept you from attacking my people again. I owe him my gratitude for that show of mercy."

The women returned with a tattered blanket draped over two slender pieces of wood. Kaku stood to help move Lucci onto the cloth, then he and one of the other men took the ends of the wood to carefully lift Lucci from the floor. He groaned at the movement and shifted, but settled once they had him steady.

"I can't promise that he won't return," Kid said as he led them toward the door. "But once I'm well enough, I can assure you that I'll visit you again. As satisfying as your battle was to watch, I still want to see you defeated for hurting my woman." He waved back at Urouge. "I'll keep my word and leave your people out of it, but I _will_ have your head someday."

Urouge's bellowing laughter echoed through the hall as he walked out. "I'll look forward to it. Try not to leave your woman without any regrets next time, and enjoy your time with her to the fullest."

Kid barked a short laugh. If he was fortunate enough to have a second chance at battling Urouge, he would not leave Nami with a single regret. If he was destined to leave their realm, to leave her behind, he would make the most of every moment he had with her.

They walked out of the village just as they entered it – with soldiers prepared for the worst and the villagers' wary eyes following them until they had gathered their horses and headed toward the woods. He watched the villagers just as carefully until they were well away. He didn't trust that they wouldn't put an arrow in his back, and he continue to be mindful of his surroundings even after they entered the forest. Urouge might have acted honorably, sought civil discussion over a common thorn in their sides, but there was no telling what orders he whispered to his soldiers while they carried him inside. They might very well be walking into an ambush.

It was still early in the day, so Kid decided they would pack up their meager camp and begin the journey back to the main camp. It was slow going to reach the other men. Kid and Killer led their extra horses while the rest took turns carrying Lucci over uneven ground behind them. Every so often Kid looked back to make sure they hadn't gotten too far ahead of those on foot, and check that they were not being followed by any soldiers. For most of the trek he saw no one behind them, but as he rounded a bend he noticed movement near a tree.

"Killer," he grunted and steered his horse to the side, waving for the others to walk ahead of him. Killer slowed and tugged his horse to the other side as he glanced back to see what had stolen Kid's attention. "We're being followed. I'll keep an eye on 'em, you ride ahead and meet with the others first. Tell them to pack their things and make a decent bed for Lucci in the cart. I don't want to have to carry his ass back with that blanket. It'll take twice as long and we don't have that kind of time to waste."

Killer said nothing as he kicked his horse into a gallop and took off to heed his commands. Kaku handed Lucci off to one of the other men and mounted his horse to take the lead, allowing Kid to slowly amble behind them. He let the others get further ahead of him before he looked back one more time. He caught a messy tuft of dirty blond hair disappear behind a bush and snorted in amusement.

There was no need to fear their little stalker, but he would keep an eye on him to see how far he thought to trail them. So long as he was ignored, he would surely give up and go home.

When they reached the camp, he found everything loaded in the cart with a bed prepared for Lucci to rest in. Kaku climbed into the cart with his friend to watch over him while one of the other men took the bench to drive the cart. Kid let his horse graze as the others finished securing their saddles and continued to watch the forest. The little stalker had fallen behind, but Kid spotted him just before they set off to the east.

"What are you thinking?" Killer asked as he fell in beside him. He glanced over his shoulder and frowned when he caught sight of the pursuer. "I'm surprised he's still following."

Kid snorted. "Dumb or desperate," he mused. "We'll stop before nightfall. If he doesn't find some sense and turn back around before then, I'll deal with him."

"Kid…" Killer said with an unspoken warning in his tone.

Kid waved him off. "I know. I'll be nice."

The others slowly took notice of who was trailing far behind them as the afternoon wore on. They hadn't known what to expect when they heard that they had someone following, but once they saw him, they all had a good laugh. It became a game after that. Franky's men would take turns riding back, hollering or screaming or blowing into a horn, swinging an axe or fist. The stalker would shout in alarm, run, and then hide behind a tree or rock until the rider returned to the group. Despite all of their attempts to scare him off, he would always slip out of his hiding spot once they put distance between them again, and continue to follow.

After six attempts to scare him off, the game turned old for Kid. The other men were still chuckling, but Kid could find nothing amusing about the situation.

"He must be hungry by now," Killer mused as they trailed further behind the rest of their group.

"If he was foolish enough to leave the village without food, then that's his problem, not mine. I don't know what he thinks to accomplish following us, anyway. He's better off turning back," Kid grumbled stubbornly.

Killer cast a look over his shoulder and Kid couldn't help but follow his gaze. Their stalker no longer tried to hide when they glimpsed back, he looked too exhausted to make the effort. His head hung low, his shoulders hunched and dejected. He tripped over a root and toppled to the ground with a shout, and Kid turned his gaze forward with an annoyed hiss.

"He'll get lost if he turns back now, assuming he isn't already lost," Killer reasoned.

"Not my problem," Kid growled, but still he slowed his horse to give the idiot a chance to keep up.

Killer reached for his saddlebag with a sigh. He pulled out a small pouch of his rations and tossed it to the ground behind them. Kid peeked back to see their follower take notice of the bag. He perked up and scrambled to his feet, finding the energy to run toward the food and snatch it up. Kid glowered at his cousin for the gesture of charity before kicking his horse to canter ahead and catch up to their group.

He would give him another hour to give up. If he was still there when they stopped for the night, then Kid would make his decision.

One of the men at the lead called out to the group that he could see a stream up ahead. They decided to rest there for the night to fill their skins and let their horses drink. Three of the men took to the stream to fish, others gathered wood for a fire, and Kaku stayed with Lucci to clean and rebandage his wounds. The Norman hadn't stirred more than a couple of times since they put him in the cart, and each had been little more than an annoyed groan when the cart jostled him around, but once they stopped, Kid could hear him muttering to Kaku in a garbled Norman tongue while his friend tried to help him drink.

While the others were busy with their tasks, Kid slipped his pouch of dried meats from his pack and limped toward the edge of camp. A whole day in the saddle had left him stiff, but the wine Urouge gave them earlier helped take a slight edge from his pains. And the prospect of returning to Nami soon helped him endure the tightness in his side without complaint. He could hold out another day or two in the saddle.

He settled onto the ground beneath a hearty ash tree, waving Killer away when his cousin thought to help him sit. His friend rolled his eyes and sat on a gnarled root beside him. He held a skin of fresh water, but took no drink.

They sat in silence as Kid pulled out a strip of meat. He took no bite as he listened to the rustle of the trees and the scuff of their stalker's footsteps. He had slowed considerably over the last hour, tripping his way behind them. He made fewer sounds of pain when he fell, didn't run as far when the men thought to chase him again. He was too determined to keep up, or too stubborn to realize he was going the wrong way.

When Kid spotted the boy stumble around a tree, looking as dejected and exhausted as he had earlier, he leaned forward and tore his strip of meat in half while whistling to get the boy's attention. His head shot up and he froze where he stood, startled to find them waiting for him. He looked around in a panic, like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves, but didn't flee in the other direction like he should have.

"I remember something your old man once said to me," he said to Killer in English, loud enough for the boy to hear. "He said that there's a fine line between being a brave man and being a stupid one. I think I finally understand what he meant."

Killer snorted in response while Kid waved the chunk of meat in front of him, tempting the boy to come closer. The boy took a wary step toward them, but panicked at a round of raucous laughter from the camp.

"Get over here already," Kid barked, his patience wearing thin after a day of watching the boy make a fool of himself. It was embarrassing to see him follow them, heedless of the danger he was in the further he got from his home.

The boy shrieked in response but stumbled over to them. He tripped into the dirt at their feet and Kid tossed the scrap of food to the ground in front of him.

"Why are you following us?" Kid asked as the boy greedily devoured the meat. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was lost to a croak that turned into a dry cough, so Kid gestured for Killer to give him the water. They watched the boy guzzle the drink, Kid doing his best to restrain his temper as he waited.

"Thank you," the boy finally whispered once he finished his drink and handed the nearly empty skin to Killer.

"So? What idiot idea came into your mind that made you follow us this far?" Kid prompted as the boy slumped onto the ground with an exhausted sigh. "Your lord made it clear you couldn't come with us. He'll have my head if he finds you with me. I gave my word that I'd leave his people alone, that included not taking any of you without his leave. Life in the church that awful?"

The boy shook his head solemnly, but said nothing else. Kid let a frustrated growl rumble in his throat as he smacked the side of the boy's head. The boy shouted, his head shot up with a glare, and he rubbed a hand through his filthy, tangled nest of blond hair where he had been struck.

"If your life ain't that bad, then why the hell are you here? You do know we're your peoples' enemy, don't you?" Kid growled at him. "You're a fool if you think you can have better with us."

The boy pouted. "They said my father was one of you."

Kid laughed, the sound wry and exhausted. "Not one of us," he said, gesturing around he and the men in the camp. "I know I never got a Saxon woman with my child. Pretty certain that Killer never did, either." He looked at his cousin to see him shake his head. "Your lord said it was a svear mercenary working for a Danish king. If he was in these lands to help them war, and never came to find you, he's probably long dead and in Valhalla. You won't find him with any of us."

"I know he's dead," the boy said, his frown deepening. "But he was still one of you."

Kid groaned. "And? You think that makes you one of us?"

"That's what they say I am," he muttered. His head fell and dug his fingers into the dirt. "They say I don't belong here."

Kid snorted. "Who said that? Urouge made it plainly clear you belonged in his lands, in his church, not with us."

"The old priest used to say it. He said my mother was punished for her sins when she died, and that I only lived so that I could repent for her," the boy explained. "He sent me to live with Lord Urouge's priests when I grew too big, but I still don't feel right with them. I've heard the old women whisper that my mother laid with the devil and that someday the demons would come to take me back."

Kid shifted as an uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. He supposed after his display in the field the other night, those old ladies might think their prophecies were true. It was foolish of them to say that of a child. It wasn't his fault he was born. It wasn't his fault that his mother laid with a mercenary. He was just a child.

He studied the boy closely. He was tall and thin, looked to be decently fed. He was filthy and stunk like a wild animal, but he had spent the day trailing through woods and fields without much rest. His blond hair needed a good wash and combing. Through the grime clinging to his skin, Kid could make out a ruddy complexion. And he had startling green eyes, as rich as the leaves they sat beneath.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"My father's name was Sindri, so they took to calling me Sind," he answered.

Kid's brow rose at the name, but he didn't comment on it. "How old are you?"

"Eight, I believe."

Kid's jaw fell open. He would have surmised the boy was nearly twelve or thirteen by his height, certainly no older than Finn had been when he first met him. He was just as tall as he had been. "You can't be eight," he huffed, snatching the boy by the arm to drag him back to his feet. He forced himself to stand to compare heights, and sure enough the boy came to his hip. "You're too tall."

"That's what they say." The boy frowned as he twisted his arm from Kid's grip. "But I swear it."

Kid laughed. "Your father must have been a giant! His parents must have had a good sense of humor to name him for a dwarf. You might even grow taller than me when you're older." He grasped the boy under his arms to lift him, ignoring the stabbing pain in his back that protested the move. He grinned at the squirming child. "You're still scrawny. Like a twig. I could break you in half. Doubt you'd survive one winter in Noreg. Not enough meat on your bones to keep you warm."

Sind kicked his feet, trying to escape Kid's hold. Kid dropped him to the ground without ceremony and continued to laugh as the boy tried to glare up at him while wiping a clump of dirt off his cheek.

"Go home, brat," he said as his laughter eased. It made his already aching side hurt even more, but it had been a good laugh. He settled back down on the ground, grinning wide. "Your father might have been from Svealand, but that doesn't make you a Northman. And why would you want to be? Surely, you've heard what we do to your people? We're the ones who started the fire in the field just the other night. You really want to live with a bunch of pagans who don't care one whit for the people who have been caring for you? You're better off with your priests."

Sind puffed his cheeks with a stubborn pout and slumped over. "I'm not. I don't want to stay with them. They make me pull weeds all day."

Kid barked a loud laugh at the childish complaint. Killer snorted beside him. "You're young, you don't know better. What do you think we do back in Noreg? Do you think we just lounge about with our hoards all day? Fight each other? We have to pull weeds. We have to build ships. We have to tend farms. We have to wash and mend and do all sorts of work. You come with us, your life won't change. You'll just be digging weeds in a different garden."

Sind fidgeted in place. "I still want to go."

Kid fell back against the trunk of the tree with an exasperated sigh. "I feel this is my fault. Shouldn't of made that joke about taking you in. If I knew you were that desperate to leave your home, I wouldn't have said anything." With a groan, he sat up and leveled a hard stare on the boy. He only had one other option left. "What stories have your priests told of us and our gods? They tell you that we're demons, that we worship false gods, that we make sacrifices to them. They tell you we're cruel, vicious monsters who lust for blood and gold and sex, that we hold no Christian virtues. What if I tell you that everything they say is true? Do you still wish to come with us?"

The boy pursed his lips in thought. "Some of it might be true, but I don't think you're as evil as they say." Kid's brow rose as the boy fidgeted nervously. "They always said that my mother's greatest sin was loving my father, but why would it be a sin to love someone? And if he was so evil, then how could anyone come to love him?" Sind sniffled, his head falling to hide his pained expression. "I used to dream that my father was still alive, and that one day he would come for me. If he loved my mother as much as she was said to have loved him, I thought that meant he would want to take me from this place, to his home, and make me his son. But he never came and they told me he was dead, that he would never come. I just want to go home."

Kid groaned, even more frustrated with the dilemma before him. He could hear Nami's voice in the back of his head, urging him to take pity on the child. His heart twisted with sympathy he wished he could ignore. It didn't matter if he felt sorry for the boy or not, his desires were foolhardy, his life would not be better in different lands, with different people. Even Nami, no matter how much pity she might feel, would see that.

But she would probably still want to help the child.

"Do you know any Norse?" Kid asked through another groan as he ran his hands over his face. Sind shook his head in answer. Kid sighed. "You better start learning fast. I don't want to go around translating for you all the time." The boy's eyes lit up and his back straighten, eager and excited. Shouting from the camp stole Kid's attention for a minute. He glanced over his shoulder at the men as they came to the fire with a decent catch that would feed all of them that night. He looked back to Sind. "You like fish?"

The boy's excitement waned with a disgusted curl of his lip. Kid snorted at the look.

"Well, get used to it. We eat a lot of fish in the north." He reached out to roughly tousle the boy's hair and then shoved him toward the camp. "Go sit by the fire and get some rest. We leave before dawn."

* * *

After three days of riding north, Hróarr made the decision that they turn back for the camp. Nami wished that she could keep riding, follow the coast up into the highlands of the Scots, and then make her way back down the western coast. She wanted to map it all, but they didn't have the time. She would have to be content with only mapping the sliver of eastern coast she saw. One day she would return and hopefully have all the time she needed to travel over all the isles.

They had found a farm belonging to an old Norse-woman and her family on the fourth night and were fortunate to be welcomed into the home. Nami volunteered to help with their chores to repay their kindness, as well as keep herself distracted from the last vision she had. She had tried to meditate on the images the night they came to her, to conjure them from her mind so she could explore them better, but she had no luck. Even her sleep had been dreamless that night, leaving her with no new answers.

Working around the farmhouse brought a pang of homesickness to her that night. Her longing for Tingstad was always at the back of her mind, buried within her heart. She couldn't go back yet, not until she knew it was safe. She could only hope that Nojiko and Genzo did not suffer too horribly in her absence. If they held on, just a little longer, then maybe she would find some way to free them.

Her work didn't just remind her of the simpler days, before Arlong came along, it also reminded her of the home she had found in Drafn. She had never expected to find a new home in Kid's hall, but he and the people he ruled over had given back a piece of her life she had missed, a bit of the freedom she had longed for within Arlong's hall. Now she was as eager to return to all of them as she would be to return to those she left behind in Tingstad. She feared losing them, even more so now after seeing one prophecy come to pass, but she held just as much hope and determination that she would not let them down.

She wanted to return to the camp. She wanted to see Kid again. She wanted to go home, her new home, and enjoy the freedom she had. She might not have it for long. If she failed and lost Kid, then she would be back in Arlong's hall, a prisoner to his ambitions once more. She wanted to enjoy her freedom for as long as she could. And she wanted to continue on her path to find a way to keep her freedom and help her family regain their own.

They left the farmhouse with extra scraps of food and a small cask of ale the owner gave to her for the mending she and Gunda did. It had saved the old lady two days of work, and as they ate their hot supper with her, she had been able to hear news of her homeland. She had left for England when she was a teen and newly married. She hadn't seen her homelands since and relied on the occasional raider or new settler to bring her word of the people she left behind. Any gossip on who was claiming to be king or on which people were warring over worthless land was greatly appreciated.

They had been gone for nearly six whole days when Nami spied the masts of their ships in the distance, their flags snapping in the wind off the coast. They had eaten the food they received from the farm, and hardly had anything left of their own provisions. The cask was still full, at least. Nami decided to save that for when they reached the camp. If Kid returned before they did, she would need the ale to soothe his rage.

She could make out the grey pillars of smoke from the campfires when she heard a horn bellow from a tree. They slowed their horses to search for their scout, noticed the branches of a tree rustle and snap as someone made their way down to the ground. Nami grinned when she saw Halle duck out from under the boughs of an oak. The older man waved excitedly as they steered toward him.

"Finally," he called out, snagging the reins of her mare once she was in reach. "Axel can stop panicking now. I swear, he was ready to make a sacrifice and beg the gods to make you return soon."

Nami's brow rose. "Did Kid come back?"

"Fortunately, no, he's not returned yet," Halle said with a long sigh. He waved for her to scoot forward in her saddle and then climbed up behind her. He took hold of her reins and kicked her horse into a canter, urging them to hurry toward the camp. "Axel was thinking to send scouts out to search for you both if you didn't return by tonight. With you here now, that is one worry off his back."

Nami frowned at the news that Kid had yet to return. They were hoping to reach the camp before he did, but she was still worried for him with how injured he was.

"Wire said not to worry about Jarl Eustass since he has Killer with him. Killer will keep him out of trouble," Halle said as they headed down the slope toward the camp.

"That's true. Still, it wouldn't be a bad idea to send a few out in search of them if they aren't back by tonight. How far did they say this lord's home was?" Nami asked, glancing over her shoulder at Halle.

"About two days with the cart they were taking."

"Assuming they didn't find a reason to delay, then they should be returning any day now." Nami breathed out a sigh. "I don't think we have any reason to worry just yet."

"Even less now that you're here," Halle said with a snort of laughter when the camp came into view and they spotted Axel waiting at the entrance. He threw his hands up and fell to his knees in an exaggerated show of gratitude. "I think he was prepared to take up the Christian God, too. Just in case our gods couldn't hear him in Christian lands."

"It was the Christians that tried to take Lady Nami from us in the first place," Axel called when he heard Halle's comment. "I wouldn't take up their God, even if they put a sword to my neck." He spat to show his contempt for them. "But it wouldn't hurt to appeal to Him, just in case."

Nami laughed as Axel steadied her horse. "You were needlessly worried," she said while slipping out of the saddle with Halle's aide. "Has anything happened here while we were away?"

Halle shook his head. "Peaceful and utterly boring. Nearly had a skirmish on our hands when a few of Franky's men wanted to pass the time with another raid. Fortunately, he dealt with them before they ran off and got themselves killed. The rest of us are just eager to set sail with our treasure."

Wire came toward them with a large grin and greeted Nami with a solid pat on her head. Heat wasn't far behind him, stifling a yawn before opening an arm to invite her in for a lazy hug.

"I've had the men at work preparing the ships to leave," Wire said. "Most of the treasure is loaded. All we're waiting on now is for Jarl Kid to return with the others, then we can load the rest and leave."

"Halle was telling me that you all considered sending out scouts to search for him," Nami said.

Wire shrugged. "He'll be back in day or two. I have no doubt about that. If it will set you at ease, we can send someone out. We already have Stig watching from the trees to the west for him, just as Halle was watching for you. I'd rather not risk letting anyone else wander off when we're so close to leaving, though."

"I suppose that's true." Nami sighed, trying not to worry for Kid. If Wire wasn't worried, she saw no reason to be. He knew the Jarl better than she did. "How are the injured?" Nami asked, glancing up at Heat.

"All are doing well. Complaining that we don't have much to ease their pains, but they're alive," Heat said.

"And Kalifa?"

"Better. The dizzy spells have lessened and she's able to keep more of her meals down." Heat tugged at the sleeve of her tunic. "And how is your shoulder faring?"

"Well." She smiled and turned to let him inspect the wound. It still ached and the flesh was tender to the touch, but she had no fever or rot like her last injury. She had noticed it less and less with every passing day.

"Good," Heat said as he slipped her tunic back into place. "And your visions?" he asked, voice lowered to a hush.

Nami sighed. "I had one, but I haven't been able to decipher it and my meditations haven't helped conjure it again."

Heat hummed, glowering at her thoughtfully.

"Her vision came in the middle of a storm," Gunda spoke up as she hefted Nami's pack off her horse. "We had taken shelter beneath an oak. I've been wondering if Thor might have tried to call to her, send her a warning of something on the horizon."

Nami nodded her agreement. "Much of the vision came with the flashes of lightning."

"Did it scare you like the others?" Heat asked.

Nami shook her head.

"She was playing in the rain," Hróarr added. "Fearless of the lightning, even after her vision came she continued to stare up at the sky as if searching for an answer in the clouds. Nothing like her last one."

Heat hummed one more time, then came to a decision with the nod. "If Thor is trying to warn you of a hardship, then we should focus on invoking him."

"I already gathered acorns from the tree we sheltered beneath that night," Nami agreed. "I just wasn't sure which runes to carve into them." She fidgeted nervously. "I've heard warnings to be careful with _thurisaz._ I didn't want to carve it and invoke something I wasn't prepared for."

"If Thor is calling your attention to a danger, then there is no better rune. I feel you are safe in invoking that rune's magic. He will not let harm come to you," Heat reassured before nudging her toward the camp fires. "First, you should rest. And I want to hear about your journey."

Nami spent the afternoon resting with Gunda and Hróarr while they told the others about all that they saw. She fell back into her normal routine by supper when Franky returned from a hunt with his men that helped quell their own restlessness. She helped Kalifa clean and prepare the deer they brought back, setting aside strips to dry before they sailed back to Noreg so they would have extra provisions out at sea.

After their meal, Heat guided her to the shore to see if they could conjure her last vision. He handed her a stick and told her to draw a circle with all the runes written around it, then within that circle, she would draw five more, each holding a rune he wanted her to concentrate on. He picked _eihwaz_ and _raidho_ for the top two circles since her last two visions had come through her meditations on them. The bottom two circles held _nauthiz_ , the cross-like rune meant to invoke her need for answers in the confusion of her vision, and the _kenaz_ rune to cast light upon her vision and bring her a revelation. Last, he had her draw out _thurisaz_ , the thorn rune, in the center circle to focus on the hardships to come.

"Remember that this rune holds not only the power of the ice giants," Heat said as he set a handful of acorns in the center circle, "but also the might of Thor's hammer to defeat those giants. It is powerful and can bring destruction to those who use it unwisely, but have faith that the gods will protect you, that your family will guide you as they have." He pointed to the _eihwaz_ rune. "Focus on this rune first. You have a solid link with Yggdrasil and the Norns, they will help you see what you do not understand. When you feel comfortable in the boughs of the world tree, then remember the storm, the way it felt to your spirit, and trust that it will not harm you."

Nami felt a moment of wariness as she wondered what she would see if this worked. Her vision while concentrating on _eihwaz_ had been disturbing in its detail, and her dream of the Norns had brought her physical pain. Her vision in the storm hadn't scared her as the others had, but the imagery she had seen was still enough to make her anxious of their meaning.

She took a deep breath and released it in a slow, steady rush. She sat down in front of the circle and took another deep breath to ease her nerves, then shut her eyes as she exhaled.

She listened to Heat walk away to take a seat further behind her where Axel and Gunda sat to watch over her. Halle was standing guard on the path that night. He wasn't as close as the others, but she could still hear him humming to himself. The lilting sound of his voice stole her attention, but helped her relax, set her mind at ease. The song he hummed flowed with the waves rolling into the shore in front of her, melded with the wind that teased through her hair.

She caught the rich scent of burning wood from the campfires and breathed in deep. When she exhaled, she felt her world fall away.

She opened her eyes to find herself sitting in Yggdrasil's branches once more. She sat on a limb where it grew from the trunk of the great tree, far higher than she had sat before. She couldn't see the wells below, only an endless sea of wood and evergreen leaves. She gripped the trunk as she stood and tried to peer out from the boughs but the world outside the tree was lost within the branches.

The tree's bark was rough beneath her fingertips, gouged out with the fates of the nine realms. Sap oozed from the marks, its warm, heady aroma soothing to her. It stuck to her fingers as she ran her fingers over the runes and her hand came away slick with the orange liquid. She rubbed over the thickening sap with her thumb and watched as it hardened and collected in tiny specks of amber that joined and grew into jagged, raw stones.

Twenty-four stones sat in her palm, each no bigger than a fingernail.

Before she could contemplate the meaning of the stones, the distant rumble of thunder stole her attention. She turned to search through the thick branches, hoping to find the storm she foresaw, or at least a hint to the images. When she saw nothing but the boughs, she took a deep breath and stepped away from the trunk. Instinct told her to stay close to the main stem of the tree, but she knew better than to fear the branches. Yggdrasil would not let her fall.

The branch she balanced on was wide and thick, sturdy enough to bear her weight. It creaked and groaned and dipped as she walked further out, but did not crack or break. When the branch began to narrow, the canopy of evergreen opened and she sucked in a deep breath at the endless expanse that stretched out before her.

She could barely make out the blue of the well's water and the roots running through it. Beyond that, she saw nothing and everything, all the worlds, all the realms, and yet she could not fathom their existence as resolutely as she could the tree she stood upon. They were distant and formless, but at the same time right in front of her very eyes, rich with detail.

The tree shifted as she stared out, the branches moving as though they had a mind of their own, and revealed to her distant mountain peaks covered with eternal ice. Black clouds gathered and swirled over the white caps. Lightning flashed. It was the storm she saw, but it was far away, out of her reach.

She heard the creak of another branch above her own. She looked up and to the left where the sound came from and stared in awe at the form of a man walking over the branch as she had. His back was straight, his head held high. He held a golden staff that firmly struck the wood beneath him with every step. He looked as one would strolling through the forest, or along a gentle path, not venturing out onto Yggdrasil's branches. He was fearless where he stood. He had stood there many times before. He was at home there.

She couldn't make the figure out perfectly, but he was clad in gold arm rings, earrings, and anklets. Even his belt was decorated with gold. The distant lightning was bright enough to make the precious metal he wore gleam and flash as if it were imbued with the very same energy.

He was the man in her vision.

She didn't question her own body's judgement when she unconsciously took a step back. He hadn't seen her, and she had a feeling that she wouldn't want him to see her there. She had to remain hidden.

But she was curious of this man staring out at the worlds around them, watching the same storm that caught her attention. She wondered what he saw, what he knew. Could he see as she did? Did he understand this world, these realms? What sort of visions came to him? What answers did he seek?

She sat down upon her branch where she could watch the man's back. She watched and wondered, awestruck by the ease of his presence upon that tree. He truly belonged there and she envied him for it.

He took a step forward and she sucked in a breath as he balanced on a thin twig at the end of the branch. She wanted to call out in alarm, instinct nearly pushed her to her feet. She restrained herself as he pushed off from the branch, leaping out into the void around the tree. She clung to her branch and scurried forward to catch his descent. He was little more than a speck when she spotted him, her stomach dropping and head spinning as she peered toward the distant ground. And then he vanished as quickly as he appeared. There was no splash in the well, no bone crushing crash upon a root. He was just gone.

She crawled back to the safety of the trunk and took a deep breath. Her head spun just imagining that drop and she had to will her hands to cease their trembling.

The man's appearance and abrupt leave confused her. The distant storm provided her no answers. The amber stones in her hand left her with even more questions. Her meditation was proving fruitless, but she was not ready to end it. Nothing catastrophic had happened yet, so she decided to remain in that state for as long as she could and focus on the runes she had cast. She needed the practice, and maybe with time her existence in that other world would be as natural as it had been for the man.

She made herself comfortable on her branch and settled in to study the storm. She thought of the nature of a storm in her world, of the charge lightning left in the air, the sweet scent of the rain, the chill that came as the wind swirled about. She couldn't feel that same shiver run down her spine that she usually did before a storm at sea. She couldn't feel her hairs stand on end at the rumble of thunder. It was too far away, but still she focused with everything she had.

If she could feel a storm coming sooner, then that meant she had more time, more options to save those who depended on her.

Even caught up in her vision, a piece of her remained aware of the world she truly resided it. She could hear Halle humming, the waves lapping at the shore, the shifting sand beneath those that sat near here. It was hardly enough for her to be conscious of all that was around her, but still she heard the echoing bellow of a horn. She paid it no mind. She was safe where she was. If there was danger, Heat would have pulled her from her trance if her own instincts didn't rouse her first.

The tree cracked around her. The branch she sat on stretched out and grew wider while the tree grew taller, reaching further into the heavens. She didn't take her eyes from the storm, not even when she heard her branch creak with extra weight.

A breath fanned over her ear, warm and inviting.

"What do you see?" a voice rumbled beside her, his words deep and rasping, almost laced with a growl.

"A storm," she answered.

A weight leaned against her side and she could feel his chest shake with a quiet chuckle. Soft fur grazed her hand, a simple comfort she had missed in their days apart. She smiled as she leaned into him.

"And a wolf," she added teasingly.

He chuckled again and she felt his hand slip into hers. "Does the storm scare you?"

"No."

"And the wolf?"

"Not even a little bit."

He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed. "Good."

They sat together as Nami continued to concentrate on the storm in front of her. It was difficult to do with Kid there, but she stubbornly persisted, even as the storm seemed to move away and the canopy closed in around her. The heat and weight of his presence proved too much of a distraction, and the idle stroke of his thumb on her hand sent sweet thrills up her arm and filled her with an ache that demanded more of his touch, an ache that she could no longer ignore.

And that was when she fully realized he was holding her hand and she couldn't understand _why_.

"I thought you were angry with me," she whispered as her fingers flexed around his and the world within Yggdrasil's branches slowly bled away.

She felt his head rest on her shoulder as he let out a tired grunt. "Angry at myself," he muttered. "Not you."

Nami blinked her eyes open, clearing the last of her vision and replacing it with the dark sea in front of her. Night had fallen long ago. The only light there on the beach came from the flickering campfires far behind them, their glow hardly enough to cast away all the shadows. She could hear laughter and song, revelry to celebrate the return of their men. The raucous noise did more to chase away the darkness than the flames.

She turned to find Kid leaning against her, his gaze set off over the horizon. He didn't look any more bruised and beaten than he had been when he left, only tired and in desperate need of a shave again.

"Did you fight the giant?" she asked.

He snorted and settled more of his weight against her, rubbing his cheek over her shoulder. "No. Couldn't, even if I wanted to. Lucci fought him, though. Somehow survived."

"And did you get your answers about the monk?"

His lips pursed in a frown. "Some, not much." He tilted his head back to meet her gaze. "I learned more about your clan than that monk."

She cocked her head in confusion. "My clan? What would a Saxon lord know of my clan?"

"His father's family came from Birka," he explained.

That didn't explain much of anything to her. She had heard of Birka, knew it was not far from where her people once lived, but she didn't know what the village had to do with her. Bellemere had only told her that a congregation of Christians lived in that region and that the church there was the reason her father had visited Svealand in the first place. Otherwise, she knew of no importance that village held for her.

Kid's glower deepened at her obvious confusion. "He said there was a family from Birka once that swore themselves to your clan's cause." He turned his gaze forward with a huff. "Generations before you were born, one of their patriarchs fell to your curse and warred with the Christians. The head priestess slew him and exiled the rest of his family for the danger they presented to their order."

Nami hummed thoughtfully, wishing, not for the first time, that she had asked more of Bellemere about her family and birthplace. She had a feeling her mother wouldn't have answered many of her questions, only shared what she felt was necessary for her to know. Nami wondered if her mother had hoped to let her live a peaceful life, divorced of the world her family knew. She wanted her to live freely, in peace, not in a world filled with war. Nami wished she could have that life, but then she wouldn't have met the people she was with now, wouldn't be sitting there with Kid at her side, her steady rock to hold fast to when she needed.

"They called themselves the hammer of the gods, the thorn to protect the northern rose," Kid added, a muttered afterthought.

 _That_ had caught her attention more than the village of Birka. "The thorn?" Nami stared down at her runes and brushed aside the acorns covering _thurisaz_. Kid angled his head to see the rune and grunted his own confusion. "You say a clan devoted to _Thor_ was a former ally to my family?"

"Supposedly," Kid mumbled, glancing up at her. "Does that mean something to you?"

"I had a vision," she said, pointing at her runes. "We were riding north, near the monastery the Christians call Lindisfarne, when a storm came. The lightning brought me a vision of a man clad in gold, and I just saw him again, overlooking the same storm in my vision just now. I think Thor is trying to tell me something about him. Warn me, maybe. I'm not sure yet, but maybe they're connected."

Kid stared at her, his expression devoid of emotion for a long moment. It slowly morphed into a look of annoyance, his brows furrowing and lips curling in a silent growl. "What do you mean you went riding north? Why the fuck did you leave camp at all?"

Nami rolled her eyes. "That isn't the point, Kid," she huffed as she shoved away from him and stood.

"I don't care if it's not the point. You weren't supposed to leave this camp. I thought I made it clear you were to stay here, where it's safe?" Kid growled as he slowly stumbled to his feet and loomed over her. "What if that monk was near and followed you?"

"I had a guard with me. I was perfectly safe," she argued. "We saw no monks, no soldiers, only farmers."

"Farmers can be just as dangerous if they feel threatened," he bit out, waving off toward the camp. "Plenty of our people are nothing but farmers at home. _My family_ were farmers. Give a farmer an axe and they'll know how to wield it just as well as any warrior when they're defending their lands."

She wanted to strangle him. "Again, that is beside the point. If Thor is trying to warn me-"

"Then he can warn you from the safety of this fucking camp," Kid interrupted. "I told you not to leave."

Nami threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're just being stubborn now. Nothing happened to me. I had a pleasant couple of days traveling and clearing my mind after the battle, and returned whole and well. You have no reason to be upset with me."

"I told you to stay," he growled lowly.

Rather than succumb to the overwhelming urge to smack him, she sighed and grabbed him by the hand to drag him back to camp. "Let me show you what I did while you were gone."

"I don't give a shit what you did. You shouldn't have-"

"I shouldn't have left. I know! If you say that one more time, I _will_ hit you," Nami yelled, picking up her pace even as he stumbled up the path behind her.

She ignored the lecherous whistles from the men as she yanked Kid into her tent. The other women were still sitting by the fire, and Gunda didn't follow them from the beach. She was likely wary of Kid's thinned temper, so Nami was left to calm him alone. That was fine with her. She could handle his anger.

"I don't know why you would think it wise to leave the safety of camp," Kid continued to huff once she released him. He didn't see her roll her eyes again as she dug through her pack. He was wasting his breath complaining about her journey when she had already returned. "At least you went north. If you had gone south, toward the village we raided, you might not have had such a peaceful journey," he muttered to himself. He was already beginning to calm as he convinced himself that there was no danger. "Still don't see why you needed to leave."

Her new maps in hand, she turned to find Kid wearing a sulky frown, with his arms crossed over his chest. He tried to narrow his eyes into a menacing glare, but it didn't hold the intensity it should. She felt herself soften at the expression. He truly was cute when he worried, even if it was needless.

"Your men tried to stop me," she reassured. "But I was feeling restless here. We had lost two more after you left, and Heat no longer needed my help with the wounded. I couldn't stand to sit here and wait in a camp where so many of our friends were lost to us. I needed to remember the life I'm still living, the life I've dedicated to you and all of your men that are still with us."

His scowl turned thoughtful and somber. She could see in the stubborn set of his gaze that he still wanted to argue with her about it, but the last traces of his annoyances vanished once she offered the parchment in her hand. His eyes flit between her and the maps before he gently took them. His mood turned curious as he flipped between each piece.

She was eager to see his reaction to her work. He had never seen one of her maps before. Even if he believed her to hold a talented for it, he couldn't understand it without seeing her work.

Kid's brows rose when he came to the map and sketching of the Lindisfarne region. He looked up at her, surprise and awe in his eyes. "You made these?" She nodded and his attention returned to the maps to inspect them closer. "The details… They're better than all the maps I've seen…"

"They'd be even better if I had the time to explore all the isles, by sea and land. Those are only rough sketches of all that I saw," Nami explained, fighting back a smile at his praise.

"They're beautiful," he muttered before his eyes glanced at her. She couldn't hold in her smile under the full weight of his gaze, nor could she stop the blush she felt heating her cheeks. Kid's lips curled in a lopsided smile. "I'm glad I brought back the parchment for you. These are worth their weight in gold, if not more."

Nami snickered. "I suppose they are. I think they're worth enough to at least forgive some of your debt. Maybe I could deduct… half a chest of gold?"

"Stingy," Kid said, chuckling.

"It's the best offer I'm willing to make." She shrugged.

"Of course it is, greedy woman," he teased.

She smiled up at him, unrepentant in her greed. "Do you forgive me for leaving camp while you were away?"

His good humor left him and he dropped his gaze back to her maps. It took a minute of thought, but he finally let out a resigned sigh. "I'd rather you had waited for me to return. I would have liked to join you. How far north did you travel?"

"We rode for about three days but turned around just when we reached the Scottish territory," she said, a wistful sigh lacing her voice. "I wanted to go further, but Hróarr didn't want to stay away any longer than necessary, so we turned back before the highlands."

"That's unfortunate," Kid mused. "You would have loved it up there." He held her maps out for her to take, a thoughtful frown on his face once more. "I'll talk with Franky before we leave, see if he's willing to take a route up the coast before we venture back to Álasund. You can at least see the mountains and isles from the sea if we go that way."

"Really?" Nami asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes.

Her reaction made Kid laugh. He stepped closer to her, wearing a warm smile, and she fell still as he reached out to brush the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "If it makes you this happy, I can't possibly say no."

He spoke at a low hush that made her heart flutter and breath grow short. Her whole body warmed at his touch and intense gaze. A fire was lit in his rusty brown eyes, giving them an inviting glow that drew her closer. Her stomach flipped when his fingers ran over her jaw and tilted her head back as he bent down.

And then she panicked.

She snatched her maps from his other hand and spun away before he could come any closer. She ignored the trembling of her hands as she busied herself with packing her maps away. She needed to do something, anything, to distract herself from the spark he lit in her. No matter how much she wanted to give in to it, she knew she couldn't. She couldn't hope that all would end well. She was cursed, and even if she wasn't, it was only a matter of time before Arlong found her and put her life with Kid to an agonizing end.

She wasn't free yet.

Once her maps were away, she stood and searched for something else to distract them from the tense air building in the tent. If she couldn't find anything, she was tempted to flee him entirely.

All her plans of escape were put to bed when he let out a frustrated growl, snatched her hand, and yanked her back to him. She crashed against his chest with a startled gasp. He steadied her with a hand at the back of her neck, his fingers twining with her hair. And then his lips were on hers, firm with determination, and she forgot all her reasons to run away.

She sank into him, reveling in the heat of his kiss and the way it made her heart thunder in her ears. Her lips tingled and warmed, and when he drew away for the briefest of breaths, they ached just as they had when only thinking of his kiss before they were soothed with another kiss. His touch gentled with every kiss she returned. His arm wound around her waist to support her as she clung to his leather armor. His hand untangled from her hair to cup her jaw and tilt her head as he deepened the kiss.

Her knees weakened when his tongue brushed hers and she mewled quietly at the raw need kindled within her. The muffled sound was answered with Kid's deep groan. He held her tighter, crushed their bodies together until she could feel him with intimate detail that teased her with thoughts of how his skin would feel under her fingertips, sliding against her bare flesh.

"Don't run from this," he rasped against her lips, allowing her only a short breath before he was kissing her again.

 _Run from this?_ _Why would I run from this?_ she mused to herself amidst the haze of desire clouding all her other thoughts.

"I want you," he whispered as he backed her toward her fur bedding. His hand ran down to cup her backside and press her hips to his, letting her feel his hard length as it strained against the wool of his trousers. " _Only you_ ," he growled, the words filled with a hard resolve that spoke of their truth.

He captured her lips before she could even find a thought to give voice to, let alone find her actual voice. Their kisses turned hungry, desperate, longing to satisfy the needs that only grew stronger with every savoring kiss they shared.

Kid's hand fell from her jaw to trail down her chest. She gasped into their kiss when he roughly kneaded a breast. He moaned at the back of his throat before finally relinquishing her lips to kiss over her cheek. She drew in a sharp breath as his lips grazed over her jaw. Her legs forgot how to work the moment his lips wrapped around a spot beneath her ear. The coarse whiskers growing along his jaw and cheeks tickled and teased her and sent shivers through her whole body. He sucked and nipped and laved the flesh with his warm tongue until she grew breathless and had to cling to him for support. Her eyes rolled back and she gasped his name, silently pleading he lay her down and satisfy the urgency he roused in her.

She felt her bed at her feet and nearly stumbled back, but a throat clearing broke into her lustful haze. She tried to ignore it, just as Kid was intent on doing, but the person cleared their throat louder and Nami swore she heard a child's laughter.

She blinked in a vain attempt to clear the fog hanging thick in her mind. Kid continued to kiss her neck while his hands moved on to pluck at the ties and hem of her tunic, too desperate to disrobe her to care about anyone wishing to interrupt.

Her gaze found the entrance of the tent where Killer stood, a hand covering his mouth to hide a smile and laugh. The child clinging to his leg didn't bother to hide their own amusement.

 _Child?_

Nami's confusion banished her lust, and as reason returned she remembered that she was supposed to be avoiding exactly what they were doing. She shoved at Kid's chest. He growled and clung to her as he nipped her ear.

"Kid," she hissed, shoving him again. "Stop. There's a child. _Why_ is there a _child?_ "

Kid snarled as he tried to hold her tight, but she pushed at his face and finally managed to break him from his frenzied assault on her neck. He glared at her for the interruption. She glared right back.

"A _child_ , Kid," she stated firmly and pushed at his chest until he grudgingly turned his glare toward Killer.

"What?" he barked at his cousin while his fingers dug into her clothing around her waist. He refused to let her go, even with the audience there.

"You were supposed to introduce someone to Nami," Killer reminded, nodding down at the child beside him.

"Introduce?" She looked at Kid, demanding an explanation to what was going on. "Why do you need to introduce me to a child? Where did this child come from? What are you even doing with a child in the first place? Kid… Please don't tell me you kidnapped this boy?"

Kid hissed. "Does he look like he was kidnapped?"

He grudgingly released her to wave the boy over. He had a point. The child didn't appear frightened. He wasn't bound and gagged, and he willingly came to Kid without a hint of fear. Still, what in the world were they doing with a child?

Kid stood behind the boy and placed a hand atop his head. "This is Sind, son of Sindri," he introduced.

Nami stared in utter confusion. Was she supposed to _know_ this boy or his father? The name Sindri was familiar enough, but she doubted the boy was the son of a dwarf, no matter how amusing that thought might be.

"Sind… Sindrisson?" Her mouth gaped a moment, then she scowled in thought at the pair. Kid's annoyance had morphed into a lopsided grin as he tousled the boy's hair. "And where did he come from?"

"He's an orphaned bastard from Urouge's village I took I liking to," Kid explain, his smile only growing wider. "The little shit followed us when we left and refused to return to the church in charge of his care, then gave me a sob story about his father and wanting to go home."

"He's from the north?" She crouched down to look closer at the boy. His blond hair and green eyes weren't necessarily uncommon in England, but she supposed the ruddy complexion was more northern. There were plenty of Norse and Danes settled in those lands to account for his appearance. But why a northern orphan would be in the care of a church and not a settlement of their own people made no sense to her.

"They said his father had been a mercenary from Svealand, hired by the Danes. His mother was a Saxon, died in childbirth. He was raised in a church that looked at him like he was the son of a demon at worst, vermin at best. Urouge might have been doing right by him, but others didn't hide their contempt for him."

Nami's heart ached with sympathy for the child. "If he was born and raised here, though, he will be out of place in the north. His father may have come from our lands, but he does not. He would be better off here."

"I tried to tell him that." Kid sighed. "Boy's as stubborn as an ox, swears he doesn't belong here. He followed our company for hours. The men tried to scare him off, too, but he never turned back."

"You made him follow you on foot for that long?" Nami glared up at Kid.

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't about to make any Saxon spies believe we might be encouraging his foolishness. If he was truly determined to come with us, then stumbling through a forest for an afternoon is nothing if it proves his resolve. He earned our respect with that." Kid crouched behind Sind, taking him by the shoulders to push him closer to Nami. His grin returned as he chuckled. "And look at him. He's kind of cute."

Nami snorted as she wiped at a smudge of dirt from his face. "He's filthy and smells like he rolled around in a sty."

"So, he needs a bath." Kid waved her off. "We'll wash him a bit before we leave so he doesn't stink up the boat."

"And he'll still be an outsider to our people," she tried to reason. It was half-hearted. She wanted to help the boy. If he did not feel at home with these people, then she would help him find a home more welcoming to him. She couldn't ignore a child in need, even if she knew better.

"Don't worry about that," Kid reassured. He pinched the boy's cheek and laughed when Sind struggled and whined until he was released. "I'll see that no one in Drafn harms him, and we've already begun teaching him Norse."

He cupped Sind's ear, whispering something to him, and then nudged him while gesturing toward her. The boy cleared his throat and forced a confident smile. "You are pretty, Lady Nami," he said with Kid's encouragement, his Norse coming in a stuttered, uncertain lilt.

Nami's heart skipped a beat as she glanced at Kid to see him wearing a cocky smile. He arched his brow suggestively and she felt her cheeks warm before she buried them in her hands with an embarrassed moan. "Charming me with a child… That isn't fair," she whined.

Kid chuckled. She peeked between her fingers to watch him wrap his arm around Sind and muss his hair to show his approval.

"Does this mean we can keep him?" Kid asked.

Nami dropped her hands to glower at him. "You sound like a boy asking his mother about a dog, not a grown man who has obviously already made up his mind on the matter. And you're the Jarl, if you want to take him in, then that's your decision." She slumped with a sigh. "I certainly couldn't turn him away, even if I wished to."

Her agreement brought another loud laugh from Kid as he locked his arm around the boy's head. His cheerful mood waned when Sind glanced up at him and said something in English, gesturing to her as he spoke. Kid's brows furrowed at whatever the child said, then he bit out what Nami guessed was a warning. Kid gestured to her, then to himself. The boy shook his head and they continued to bicker while Killer stood by the tent's entrance stifling his laughter. She understood enough to tell they are were arguing about her, and Kid had said something about her being _his_ that prompted her to glare. He ended the argument with a smack to the back of Sind's head before he shoved him toward Killer.

"Give the little shit a bath and drown him in it while you're at it," he barked at Killer.

"Kid," Nami snapped, reaching over to smack his arm. "Whatever he said does not justify that punishment."

"He said I was too ugly to have a woman like you," he huffed, his lip curling into a sneer aimed at Sind as Killer ushered the boy out. When the tent flap fell shut, he turned back to her with a tired frown. "He ain't wrong, but he doesn't have to be so rude and point it out."

Nami sighed, her head hanging in resignation. They had a lot to talk about concerning their relationship. She couldn't allow him to keep claiming her.

Her head snapped up when she felt Kid's hand on her jaw. He moved closer, throwing her off balance where she crouched, and pushed her to fall onto her bed. She squeaked in surprise as he followed her, aiming to settle between her legs as he leaned in to continue where they left off before the interruption.

"Wait," she snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders to hold him back. She turned her face away to avoid his kiss, but he contented himself with grazing his lips over her cheek. "Kid, we need to stop. We can't do this."

He pulled back with a growl. "Why not?"

She glowered at him. "You know why."

"Tsh, I ain't worried about some ill-conceived curse or a fucking giant or whatever else the gods think to throw at me." He cupped her face as he leveled his gaze on hers. His eyes were hard with his resolve and the intensity urged her to listen. "All that matters is that I don't want to lose you. I don't want to live a life without you in it, no matter how short that life might be. I want to enjoy it with you in every way imaginable…"

"Kid," she sighed, prepared to argue with him on this, but he gripped her tighter and glared.

"I don't give a shit if this is supposed to be forbidden. Freyja was wrong to separate her daughter from her lover. That decision is what led to this fucking mess you're in, and I won't let them ruin your life more than they already have. Freyja, Hnoss, the damn chieftain – they can all go fuck themselves if they don't think I'm worthy of you. I'll prove them all wrong, and I'll prove it to _you,_ not them. I don't care what opinion they have of me, all I care about is what _you_ think of me." He shifted to settle on his knees in front of her, letting out a sigh as his expression softened. She was too stunned to speak and waited for him to gather the rest of his thoughts. "I told you once that I mean to become a king in legend, and that's exactly what I'll do. I'll become a king and make you my queen. I'll travel the whole world to bring you every treasure, every piece of gold, every roll of silk. I'll bring you spices, precious stones, more maps. Whatever you desire, I'll bring them back to you to prove my worth. And if that isn't enough, I'll take you with me, let you see all the lands you've dreamed of, and discover more than we ever knew existed. I'll shatter that fucking curse that's holding you back. I won't let that stand in our way."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "And if it's Arlong you're worried about – _don't_. I _will_ kill him, and I _will_ survive. Because I believe in my own strength, and if that _isn't_ enough, then I believe in _you_ and your magic. Neither of us will fail in bringing your family's prophecy to fruition. I'll free you from him, and I'll convince you to stay with me because it's what _you_ want."

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as Kid stole a firm kiss. She wanted to believe every word he said. She wanted to trust that he was right, have faith in his courage and determination, but she was scared that to hold onto this hope would mean their downfall. Every kiss they shared made her heart ache. She wanted to hope, she wanted to take this path, but the burden was too much.

She grasped his hands where they clutched her face and pulled back to catch a breath. Her gasp mixed with a sob she tried to restrain, but the sound leaked out when Kid pressed his lips to her forehead. He didn't release her. She doubted he would let her go without a fight.

"I know you're scared," he whispered.

"For good reason," she snapped, fighting to rein in her turbulent emotions. Why was he doing this to her? Why did this have to turn so complicated?

"No, for a stupid reason," he growled. "But that ain't your fault. I blame the gods for this. If it weren't for their meddling in your family's affairs, I know this would be the simplest damn decision in your life." He pulled back to let her see his scowl. His gaze fell to her neck as he pushed back a few strands of her hair and his lips curled with a smile. "There's no arguing with me on this, Nami. You've already let me leave my mark on you." He chuckled as his fingers brushed over the spot he had been kissing earlier. The skin was tender to the touch and she belatedly realized he had left a bruise. "It might not be permanent like the one on your shoulder, but I'm prepared to kiss you every day to see that it doesn't fade."

She slapped her hand over the spot and glared at him. "What is it with you men and marking women as your property?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not marking you as property. I'm showing everyone that you're the only woman I desire, that only I can touch you like this, and that you want me just as much. Don't lie. I know you want this, too."

She groaned at his obstinacy. "But – "

"No buts. If you didn't want this, didn't enjoy my touch, I'd be curled in a ball nursing whatever was left of my manhood right now." He had a good point there, one she didn't know how to deny. He chuckled at her defeated pout and ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it behind her ears as he leaned in to steal another soft kiss she wished she wasn't so eager to receive. His laugh fanned over her lips as he pulled back. The warmth made her shiver. "See? You want me."

She shut her eyes and grasped for some reason to refute him. "I don't know what I want, Kid. I've been little better than a prisoner for most of my life. This… Whatever I feel for you, whatever my body might feel for you, it's nothing I've experienced before. This is all new to me."

"I know," he said, sighing as he slowly drew away. His hands fell to her thighs and squeezed firmly. "But I know what I want, and I'm prepared to convince you to choose me over anyone else who might think to take you." She looked up at him as his palms rubbed over her legs and found him grinning confidently again. "I know I ain't the prettiest of guys, but I got my own charms." She snorted at his lighthearted jest. He gripped the tops of her thighs and she went stiff as his thumbs dug into sensitive flesh, rekindling the fire he had built in her with his kisses. He tugged her closer for another kiss that made her stomach flip. "I'll make up for my ugly face with all the gold and ecstasy I can shower on you."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I don't think you're ugly. Far from it."

Kid's eyes lit up with his grin. "I'm glad to hear it, but tell that to the brat we're taking in."

"I'll still accept the gold, though," she teased.

"That's my greedy little witch," he said, laughing as he dipped down to trail his lips over her neck. She shivered when his light kisses and the coarse bristles growing along his jaw tickled her skin. He nipped her with a mischievous chuckle, making her shriek and push at his chest. "Sharing a bed with you is going to be so much more enjoyable now."

She shoved him harder, until he pulled back to meet her glare. "I'm not having sex with you, Kid."

"Maybe not now," he said, grinning lecherously. "But you'll eventually give up fighting yourself on this. I'll see that you do."

"Then I'm not sharing a bed with you at all," she said flatly. His grin fell away, replaced with a disappointed frown. "I can't share a bed with a man I can't trust to keep his hands to himself."

He rolled his eyes. "I've hardly kept my hands to myself when you've been in my bed and you haven't had a problem with it."

"It's different now and you know it." She smacked his chest when he looked to argue with her. "You can't push me into this, Kid."

He groaned but slowly drew his hands down her legs to rest on her knees. She breathed a sigh of relief as the temptation in his touch was taken away. If he didn't retreat now, he might very well break her down. She couldn't give in, not yet, not there, even if she wished that she could.

"I'll be patient," he promised. "At least I'll try. Suppose if I'm going to prove my worth to you, I've got to show you how determined I am to keep you."

His understanding eased her worries and made her genuinely hope he could accomplish all he set out to do. "Just be grateful I'm not making you prove it by walking through the woods like you did to that boy."

He snorted. "No… You're just making me fight my own urges that keep telling me to shove you down right here and now and _fuck_ you until you can't argue with me anymore. If you ask me, I'd prefer to walk the whole length of Noreg in the middle of winter."

She fought back her blush at his vulgar remark while rolling her eyes. "You're exaggerating."

"I wish I was," he muttered. She smacked him on the shoulder in response, and he chuckled and leaned forward with a grin. "Give me one more kiss to remind me why I'm making the effort."

"Kid…"

He crooked his finger to beckon her in. "Just one."

She found it too difficult to refuse him, especially when he gave her a mocking pout. The look was cute and made her laugh. "Cheater," she said as she leaned in.

"You do it all the damn time," he mumbled against her lips before they shared a long peck. He pulled back with a smile. "One more."

"You're being greedy now," she huffed.

"And you would know. How much gold did you steal from our chests?"

"None."

"Liar," he chuckled before stealing the kiss he wanted. "I'll play dumb if anyone asks. But, it'll cost you another kiss."

"You just took another kiss."

He shook his head. "No, not payment enough."

"Greedy _and_ taking advantage of me," she said, but gave him his kiss, anyway.

He hummed against her lips, pleased with the gifted affection. She began to pull away, and he chased after her to steal another while muttering _one more_ under his breath. That _one more_ turned into _ten more_ before she finally managed to push him away and clamped her hand over his mouth to prevent him from taking another. Mirth shone in his eyes as she glared at him while resisting the urge to run her tongue over her lips to taste him and soothe the tenderness left from his kisses. He licked the palm of her hand and her eyes narrowed.

"No more of that tonight," she said firmly.

He grasped her by the wrist to pull her hand away. "Only tonight?" he asked suggestively. She tried to darken her glare, but he used his grip to yank her into another kiss, startling her. She shoved him away, spluttering in surprise while he bellowed with laughter. "You can fine me for that one. Add it to my debt," he said as he finally released her and pushed to his feet, hiding a wince as he favored his injured side. She let out a relieved sigh as he stepped back, giving her room to breathe. "I won't kiss you again tonight, but tomorrow…" He grinned wide and limped toward the entrance of the tent. "I'm going to prove to you that this –" He gestured between them. "This is how it's meant to be. And I can promise you that I'll make this happen and you won't regret it for a moment."

He left before she could argue with him again. Not that she would try to argue with him over the subject further. She gave him all the reasons she had against exploring their mutual attraction and he brushed them all away as inconsequential obstacles he would overcome. He was certain that he would succeed, that _they_ would succeed, and he would see it through with only stubborn determination.

And stolen kisses that left her breathless and unable to think straight.

Nami fell back in her furs and covered her heated face. She whimpered as she tried to will away the sensations that awakened with his urgent embrace. The memories alone were enough to light a fire that threatened to consume her. All it took was one touch, one kiss, and the thoughts and images of having him were burned into her mind. She craved more. She craved the freedom to enjoy the ecstasy he promised.

If her foremother's prophecy was true, and she was meant to change his fate, to save him, did that mean they could break her family's curse? That she wouldn't have to lose him?

Her heart desperately hoped so. She wouldn't be able to endure it if she failed.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Very long chapter with lots of stuff happening, being hinted at. As I said at the beginning of the fic, while I am trying to keep this as historically accurate as I can, the fic itself is going to be based heavily in mythology and magic, and this is the point where it's making a sharp turn toward mysticism and spirituality._

 _Some notes on subject matter - I feel like I give Christianity a lot of shit in this fic and I feel bad for it. I hope I'm not offending anyone. In my defense, this is Christianity viewed from the perspective of people that had a great deal of conflict with Christians during this time (between their own actions via raiding and the migration of Christianity into the north that brought with it wars and destruction of spiritual symbols, temples, and the eventual blending of pagan cultural traditions with Christian traditions - all of which happened over the span of three centuries with a lot of back and forth between which spiritual traditions held supremacy over the Nordic countries - these people have very complicated views of Christianity). To this day Christianity and religion aren't viewed as particularly important in these countries outside of the cultural practices that became tied up in the religion. They're actually considered the least religious nations in the world (particularly Sweden). Many of them hold personal spiritual beliefs, but very few are actually religious._

 _Also, in contrast to my perhaps more contemptible portrayal of Christians, it will probably seem like I am doing the opposite with Muslims in this fic. But, unlike the clashes between pagans and Christians, the Norse had better relationships with the Muslim scholars they interacted with. Yes, they also went to the Mediterranean and raided their countries, but Muslims hadn't gone to the lengths that Christians did to convert them from their pagan beliefs. The Muslim scholars from this age are also some of the best sources of information we have on the practices of Old Norse society. They literally did anthropological studies and observations of Norsemen and Rus. Their viewpoints are not colored by wars. These people were not seen as enemies or as particularly vicious threats the way England and the rest of Christian Europe saw them. So, since they had a slightly more amicable 'working relationship' in some contexts, I'm going to make sure that the scholars of this time period are portrayed accurately, especially considering this falls right in the middle of the Islamic Golden Age, and their advances in science and medicine are going to be of vital importance to another character in this fic, so I need to make sure that is portrayed well._

 _No, Nico Robin does not appear in this fic, but I could not resist making mention of her in order to bring up the subject of Muslim scholars. It helps that Oda stated she would be Russian in our world (though I view her as indigenous Russian, not actually from the 'Rus' where there is a lot of debate about whether they were a tribe of Norsemen - the more favored view, or from elsewhere around the Baltics). If anyone is curious to know who Robin is married to in this fic... Please don't kill me if you hate this ship... But she's married to Crocodile. There is a subplot, of a sort, that I have in mind that would be a continuation of this fic once I was done with Nami and Kid's saga, but I can't say anything on it since it would spoil parts of this fic. I can safely say that Kaku's interest in Robin is related to this other plot idea, but other than that, we'll just have to see if I want to write a Robin-centric medieval fic._

 _And, I also want to remind people that the Christian faith and Islamic faith are related and actually worship the same God. They have different books of worship, different Messiahs, but their God is the God of Abraham, the Hebrew God, and I wanted to use Urouge to highlight that while these faiths have warred for a long, long, long time, there are people within each faith that understand they share the same God and are capable of respect, civility, and even union. While Urouge does not have a good opinion of Norse pagans (understandably so - they have done terrible things to his people), he is a religiously tolerant person and is capable of respecting all peoples' personal faiths._

 _Lastly - the boy, Sind, he is one of the kids from Punk Hazard. Why did I pick him? I don't know. It's entirely Kid's fault. As I was writing the chapter, he just decided that he needed to find a random child to take in and so I went looking through kids that appeared in canon. Well, what do you know, there is a child named Sind (or Synd) which is a name element used in Old Norse, and then when I went looking for names that use it, I found the name Sindri. Sindri, as stated, is a dwarf (and also a hall for the souls of the virtuous after Ragnarok, maybe?) who is responsible for the creation of some of the gods' treasures - Freyr's golden boar, Gullinborsti, Odin's golden arm ring, and the ever-famous Mjolnir, i.e. Thor's hammer. Sindri means blacksmith in Old Norse; some texts refer to the dwarf as Eitri, and there's debate on which name is accurate, but Eitri is probably most used, while Sindri is acceptable since the dwarf is a blacksmith (and goldsmith). Anyway, I gave Sind this connection because... why not? It actually is kind of amusing to me that I pick a child that was going through giantification in canon and finding a mythical name related to his canon name, that happens to be derived from a dwarf._

 _This isn't the only child Kid sort of adopts in this fic, he's just the one I didn't actually plan on._

 _Oh, almost forgot - the runes I mention are explained in the chapter, but I want to make a special note on 'kenaz'. It is originally called kaunan in Old Norse and means ulcer, but the Anglo-Saxons gave it the name cen, which means torch, and to this day that meaning has been attributed to the rune more so than ulcer. Even runology books that are heavy into the historical study of the futhark runes and their poems use both meanings. The meaning of torch it has taken is connected to Freyja and is used to symbolize passionate love and sex. (Thurisaz and Naudhiz also have attributes related to sex and fire, by the way)._

 _I think those are all the notes I have for this chapter. Sorry, I rambled a bit. I hope you guys enjoyed this extremely long chapter, and the sexy fluff that was a struggle to bring to an end because Kid is... Kid. It is really strange to me, by the way, that Viking era Kid is capable of having a fairly healthy relationship with Nami. But he is. While still getting to be cruel and violently murdering people. Who knew he could balance his personal and professional life so well? lol_


	21. Chapter 21

_Warning: Some violence._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _A False Respite_

Nojiko slowly picked her way through the trees, gaze trained on the foliage around her as she searched for fresh lingonberries. Arlong had allowed her to return to her chores once the cuts from the lashings had healed. Her fever eased after a few nights in his hall thanks to the heartier broth and berries Hachi had slipped into her room when Arlong wasn't paying attention. Hachi had also given her one of his extra furs, and even tended to her when the fever left her too weak to leave bed. It was a kind reprieve, but it was one she knew would not last.

Two months had passed since Nami fled Tingstad, and Arlong was growing ever more restless. Chew had yet to return from Hedeby, only making the jarl's temper thin with every day that passed. He had sent out another ship to creep up the coast and question other svear villages and farms. One returned three days earlier with no information that would help him. He was tempted to seek out this Norse king himself, but he remained while sending smaller envoys out onto the straits. He didn't want any other chieftains or kings to believe he was weak without his hostage, or that his hostage might be precious enough for them to hold onto themselves. He was tempting that fate enough by sending Chew to Hedeby and it's Danish earl.

Nojiko had quietly passed her thanks to the gods every time she heard no news of Nami's whereabouts, hoping that they had some hand in keeping Nami hidden from Arlong.

"Nojiko," Hachi called from her right. She glanced up to see him waving to her further up the hill. "Over here. There's a large patch growing that should be enough for dinner tonight."

She forced a smile and slipped through the bushes to see the swath of red berries Hachi had found. He was already crouched beside one shrub and carefully plucking ripe berries to pile in his basket. He had been tasked as her guard that day, but unlike the other men, he tried to help with her chores. Kuroobi would have stood back and glowered at her the whole time she worked, maybe even grumbled complaints or threats. Others were cruel enough to be a hindrance to her work. Compared to the rest, she was grateful for Hachi's small mercies. He had a kinder soul than his brothers, even if he could be just as cruel.

"I'll help you make your sauce," Hachi volunteered as they picked. "Your cough is still troubling. You should rest."

His remark came just as she swallowed down a cough, refusing to show her continued weakness. No matter how kind Hachi was now, he was as liable to turn on her as any of the others. If Arlong ordered he punish her for any perceived slight, he wouldn't question it.

"I'm fine," she croaked. "You're better at cleaning and preparing fish. I can handle the rest."

He paused in his gathering to glower over his shoulder at her. She ignored him as she continued to pick berries.

Hachi sighed. "If you insist. But tell me if you're feeling unwell. I'll get one of the thralls to help you."

She gave him a noncommittal hum in response. She didn't need the help, even if she was feeling ill. She would rather suffer through her work than laze in bed, fretting over her sister's whereabouts and whether Arlong would find her.

A horn bellowed from the river and they both stopped their work to see what the commotion was. Hachi jumped to his feet at a second horn blast, letting out an excited shout as they spied the masts and flags of two ships.

"Chew's returned," Hachi announced. He turned to her and waved for her to hurry. "We need to finish quickly so we can greet them with a good meal."

She would rather greet them with poison, but sadly she had nothing to poison their food that would guarantee all of them died. She had contemplated many times over the years to poison Arlong's meals, but she inevitably cowered at the rare chances. If he died, his men would terrorize and destroy their village. If any of his men died, it would be the same, until the culprit was found and executed as an example. He might execute more than one supposed culprit, not all guilty, just to drive fear into their hearts should they consider poisoning them again.

Putting her thoughts of ending their torment aside, Nojiko finished her picking with haste. If they didn't hurry, Arlong would be there to fetch them. He would not want her to miss this meeting, if only so he could rub her nose in her supposed failure of protecting her sister.

Once they were finished, they hurried down into the village. She could hear Arlong's laughter ring from the hall before they neared it. The closer they came to the hall, the more his laughter blended with the voices and chuckles of other men.

When they came to the square, Nezumi's men were unloading their chests to settle in the hall for the night. Most of his men were Frankish, but he had a handful of Norman within his company that crafted his boats and trained his crew. Nezumi, himself, was a rat. Plain and simple. His only loyalty was to gold, though it benefited him to pretend otherwise to the Frankish king. He played the part of merchant and returned to Paris with secrets and news to be gifted to his king, and then returned to the north to sell whatever he knew about the Franks and Normans, or any other groups that mattered.

He was the very type of person Arlong preferred. He only respected wealth, so he would rather deal with those that spoke the same language of gold and jewels that he did. It was how he kept Nami in line for so many years, though her greed was exaggerated for his benefit. Nami, naturally, loved gold and jewels, but she loved her people far more. There were some treasures she deemed truly priceless and irreplaceable, and those treasures rarely held the same luster as a necklace or crown. Arlong convinced her to cater to his demands by handing her a new necklace with one hand, and holding a knife to the throat of a friend with the other. The latter did far more to persuade Nami than the former, but she would rather Arlong believe treasure was enough. It prevented him from not only making those threats, but acting on them. So long as everything went his way, he could be a very agreeable man.

They entered the hall to find Arlong perched in his grand chair, lifting a cup of ale to Chew and Nezumi where they stood in front of him. Chew lifted his own cup in a lazy gesture, then collapsed onto a bench to guzzle down his drink. He looked exhausted. Between the voyage and the stress of searching for Nami, his weariness was to be expected. Nojiko could find no sympathy for him.

Nezumi looked skittish, but raised his own cup before taking a less than generous sip. His countenance gave an impression of fear mixed with a haughty sense of disgust. He didn't want to be in their heathen village any more than most of the villagers did, but he was wise enough to answer Arlong's summons rather than face his wrath. When he glanced toward the door to see who entered, his fear vanished, leaving only an arrogant smirk she wanted to punch.

"Nojiko," Arlong greeted, a wide grin filled with false cheer aimed her way. "You're just in time to greet our honored guest. Nezumi, you remember Nami's adopted sister, don't you?"

"Of course," he said with a tittering laugh. He bowed his head in a mockingly polite greeting. His wiry brown beard grew in sparse around in his cheeks, like the whiskers of the very rat he was, while a thick tuft graced his chin. The hairs on his cheek seemed to twitch with his smile. It was enough to rankle and leave her suspicious. Loki was a more honorable and trustworthy man than the cretin in their hall. "It's been a few years since I've had the pleasure of seeing either of you girls, Jarl Arlong's always so protective of you two with outsiders. It's unfortunate that your sister's disappearance is the reason I'm in your company today."

She pushed back the urge to sneer at his snide comment, but couldn't resist a withering glare. Arlong's cup slammed onto the arm of his chair, making her jump and turn her attention to the glowering jarl.

"Nojiko, see about getting our guests something to eat," he growled. She swallowed down her fear and gave him a stuttered nod before heading toward the storage room. "And do something about that poor attitude, woman," he called after her. "You treat our guests with respect."

She said nothing and gave no sign that she understood as she hurried out of the room. Arlong's anger was the least of her worries right then. She wished there was some way to send a warning to Nami, but all she had was a fleeting hope that she was safe and would run at the first sign of Nezumi's men.

The thralls helped her piece together a platter of herring while she prepared the lingonberries for a sauce. As they worked around the meal-fire in the main hall, she split her attention between her cooking and the conversation between the men.

Nezumi had taken a seat across from Arlong, and both men leaned forward to signal a need for privacy. Kuroobi stood behind Arlong, his arms crossed and ever-present glare set on Nezumi. He didn't like the rat either, but the man was too useful to be rid of.

"I have heard of this man proclaiming himself king," Nezumi was saying between sips of ale. "He resides in Oslofjord but his family once lived in Svealand. Birka, I believe."

Nojiko stiffened at the village name. She knew the tales of Birka, Bellemere had seen fit to share more about her homeland than she did for Nami. It was Nojiko's responsibility to protect her in their mother's stead, she needed to know who could be trusted and who should be avoided. Anyone from Birka could be a danger depending on the clan they came from, or the god they worshiped. The Christians might have found peace with Nami's family once, but they had a stronger foothold in the north now and showed little mercy in converting any who continued to follow the old gods. If this king was once one of them, Nami might be better off in Arlong's hall.

"That isn't far from Nami's homeland," Arlong mused. She glanced up to see him staring at her with a thoughtful frown. He likely had similar thoughts as her, but he should know even less than she did. He didn't know the truth of Nami's heritage, he still thought her a daughter of Rán. And he knew nothing of the tales passed down within the family or those told to the shieldmaidens who swore their oaths to them. "I have heard rumors that he claims himself a seer, too."

Nezumi tittered. "He does. But I have yet to witness this feat. The rumors I've heard also claim him to be half-mad, so his prophetic abilities are likely nothing more than a farce to scare the masses."

"Farce or not, he has enough people that believe him and follow him that he can claim himself a king. And he is one that Nami might seek, assuming she made it that far at all. She left here in a faering and I doubt that old boat could weather the straits." Arlong scratched his chin in thought. "I have sent men along our coast in search of her, but I have found nothing."

"Perhaps she drowned at sea," Nezumi said. "Your Rán might have taken her daughter back to her hall."

"No," Arlong growled, his stubborn glare set on Nezumi hard enough to make the man tremble with unease. "Rán did not take her. No god has taken her, not yet. She has survived slaughter at the hands of your people, she is too strong, too valuable to be lost to the sea. She is lost somewhere in Noreg, I'm certain."

"Why have you not sought out this king, then?" Nezumi asked as he forced himself to calm. "Why call for my aide?"

"Because Nami will flee the moment she sees any of my ships. And if this king truly has a gift of foresight, he might see me coming before my ships arrive, but he might overlook a visit from a Frankish merchant seeking new trade," Arlong reasoned.

Nezumi shifted in his seat with an obvious grimace. "Jarl Arlong, if I may be frank," he began. Arlong gestured for him to go on. "This king is a dangerous man, especially to a good, God-loving Christian, such as myself. He overthrew the previous king, another good, Christian man who was making headway in converting the pagans of the region. He slaughtered any person that dared claim allegiance to the old king, or the religion he tried to establish. He is merciless in his tyranny."

Arlong leaned forward with a sickening grin. "You deal with me without reserve, this man should be no different."

Nezumi cleared his throat and gripped his cup tighter. "You and I speak the same language." He glanced at Arlong's belt and the heavy purse of gold hanging from it. "This king loves his gold, but not as a form of currency. Gold is an offering to be made to him, not a money to be exchanged."

"Then make him an offering," Arlong bit out impatiently. "Give him whatever he desires that might make him amenable in helping us. If he has Nami, I want her back, no matter the cost. She's more valuable than all the gold I have in my hall. And if he does not have Nami, but might have a clue of where she is hiding, then I want whatever he knows."

"If that is what you insist," Nezumi said, a tremor of fear in his voice that was belied by the greedy smile he tried to hide with his cup, but Nojiko caught the corner of. "This favor will be very expensive."

Arlong glanced over his shoulder at Kuroobi. With a wave of his hand, Kuroobi went to the main sleeping chambers and returned bearing a heavy chest. Nezumi sat straight with obvious excitement as he witnessed the man grunt and struggle with the treasure. He failed to stifle his gleeful laugh when Kuroobi dropped it onto the table in front of him, the weight of it making the wood crack beneath.

Nezumi reached for the chest, but Arlong slapped his hand on the lid to stop him. "This will be the first payment. Use it to buy this king's aide. If you succeed in this task, I will not only gift you with another chest, but I will give you directions to a massive hoard Nami has buried nearby – gold she pilfered from your lands, as well as my own chests."

Nojiko dropped the spoon she had been stirring her sauce with and spun to gape at Arlong. "You can't take that," she yelled. "You said she could keep it."

"I said she could have her treasure if she remained loyal to me," Arlong growled. "But since she has abandoned me, then she has lost the right to retain the little bit of wealth she's saved." He leveled her with his devious grin. "Don't fret, Nojiko. I'll allow Nami the opportunity to rebuild that hoard when she returns to me. And when I take over rule of her father's house, you two will have the funds to restore your village, just as promised."

"But it's taken her _eight years_ to build that hoard! You can't just take it from her," she argued, but with a single wave of his hand, Kuroobi was there to smack her across the cheek, silencing her with one strike as she fell to the floor.

"Enough of your defiance," Arlong hollered as she sat on the floor, nursing her bruised cheek and fighting back tears. "This was Nami's doing. You have only her to blame. Your riches would still be in your possession and you would have your illusion of freedom in this household. But you helped her flee, and for that, your wealth is gone and I will no longer tolerate your contempt." He nodded to Kuroobi. His man snatched her by the arm and hauled her from the floor. He tossed her over his shoulder in a swift move, heedless of her struggles. "I thank you for your help with the meal, Nojiko, but I believe the slaves can finish it. Lock her in her room. Let her sit a few days in there and perhaps she'll learn to hold her tongue in my presence."

"Arlong," she growled, fighting at Kuroobi's grip.

"Say another word, and I'll have that tongue cut out, woman," Arlong growled back.

She snapped her mouth shut, but continued to glare as Kuroobi carried her out of the room. The moment she was gone, she heard Arlong's bellowing laughter mix with Nezumi's snickering. They were having a good laugh at her expense, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that Arlong had his aide and that he would not rest until Nami was found. His determination alone would see he succeeded in recovering her.

Kuroobi tossed her into the tiny room that she once shared with Nami. She landed hard on her hip and bit back a cry of pain.

"Make another fuss like that, I'll take my whip to you again," Kuroobi warned. "Arlong will want to hear you scream one last time before he takes that foul tongue of yours."

Before she could have a chance to make a retort, he slammed her door shut and dropped the outer bar in place. She was trapped in there for however long Arlong deemed necessary. She could only assume it would be two or three days before she was released.

With a resigned sigh, she crawled into her bedding. At least he imprisoned her inside the hall. She doubted she could handle another stay in the barn. In her room, she had comfortable bedding, if nothing else. It was far more tolerable, but the next time she spoke out, he might stick her in the barn before enacting his punishment. She would be wise to keep her head down. Her temper was usually far more even, it was Nami that was the obstinate and argumentative one. But this was Nami's future freedom he was taking, the glimmer of hope they once shared. She couldn't stand to see that lost for good. Not when he had already decided to rip away any chance of freedom for Nami, that gold would still buy their peoples' lives back. Nami would never forgive him for that, and neither could she.

There was a soft knock at her door, a whisper of her name. She glanced up when she heard the bar slide from its place. The door eased open, just wide enough for her to see Hachi's sympathetic smile. He held a finger to his lips, then slid a plate of herring and lingonberry sauce into the room, along with a cup of ale. He crept out as quietly as he came, slid the bar back into place, and then she was left alone to listen to the creaks of his footsteps as he slipped back toward the main room.

Again, she was grateful for the small mercy, but whatever appetite she might have had was lost to the sinking weight of dread in the pit of her stomach.

She could only pray that the gods were watching over Nami. She was helpless to do anything else.

* * *

Nami never imagined how grateful she would be to see the entrance to Drafnsfjord.

It had taken over a week to reach Álasund, their voyage plagued by storms and rough seas. Sind had been sick throughout much of the journey, his stomach unsettled with the rocking boat even in the calmest waters. Nami spent most of her time holding him steady as he vomited overboard. He couldn't even keep water down, leaving her frantic with worry as he curled up in her arms, whimpering from hunger and thirst. Heat had a small satchel of herbs he hoped might ease the boy's nausea, but there wasn't much and the effects hardly seemed to last long before he was vomiting again.

Her inability to communicate with the boy made her stress all the worse. She wanted to soothe him, and she supposed her tone was enough to convey her sympathy, even if he couldn't understand her words. At night, amid the storms, she wanted to ease his fears with tales from their lands, but the language barrier hindered her until Killer agreed to translate. The stories helped keep him from turning fearful as the boat creaked and groaned in the churning waves, even if they did nothing to take away his nausea.

She told him about Thor and how his mighty hammer wrought the lightning streaking overhead and created the roar of thunder that deafened them. She told him about Rán in her watery hall and how she conjured tempests so she might bring men and gold to her hall to play. She told him about Aegir, the giant that was the very sea itself, the husband of Rán, and how he was a good friend to the gods, inviting them into his hall to share his renowned ale. She told him every story she could remember, of any gods that struck her thoughts, until he managed to fall asleep. He would inevitably wake an hour or two later, but the little bit of rest he had helped make the voyage bearable.

She hardly slept. Too worried for the boy as he grew pale and weak, anticipating his next spell of nausea and hoping he would survive the voyage. Gunda did what she could to care for the boy, allowing her a respite, but she still had to navigate, a task made all the more important as she sought the calmest route possible, only to run into one long, unavoidable line of storms that required her whole attention to keep their ship in one piece.

When the storms finally passed, they had to slow their pace and wait for the other ships in their group to reappear. It took over a day before they were all gathered again, and fortunately by that point the worst of Sind's sickness passed. He still looked a little green when their boat rolled on a swell, but he swallowed down two bites of dried fish without throwing it back up.

In that lull she had been given a true chance to rest. She curled up with Sind near the stern of the ship, under Kid's watchful eye, and dozed off. It was a chilly night, but she was too tired to care. Sind was warm in her arms and that was all that mattered. She woke near the dawn twilight with Kid's fur draped over her and pressed against his side as he napped with them. He was warm and comfortable. She wanted nothing more than to curl into him and go back to sleep, but with dawn approaching, she needed to be alert. He grumbled and complained in his sleep as she pulled away, but settled again when she moved Sind into her place, leaving the boy to get more rest.

Kid wasn't pleased when he woke to find her missing, a child in her place, and glared at where she stood with Killer at the steering oar. He couldn't be too mad, she did have a job to do, after all.

With all the ships joined up again, it didn't take long before they noticed signs of land. She could smell the trees on the wind and hear the cries of sea birds mixed with the quiet crash of the waves against a rocky shore. Sind grew excited at the first glimpse of the lands he would call home, the rocky fjords completely novel to him.

And then they were gifted with the sight of a whale's back rolling along the surface near their ship. Sind had never seen a whale and was left awestruck. When the whale's back breached the surface for a breath, it seemed as if the boy's sea sickness was completely forgotten as he leaned over the wale, giggling at the strange, foreign creature.

Killer stood with him to see that he didn't fall overboard. He told the boy that Aegir had sent the animal to greet him to their lands and welcome him home. Sind smiled wide and Nami glimpsed a few tears sparkle in his eyes as he watched the whale swim alongside them. He couldn't be happier, relieved to hear that he might find a place in their world, the home he had longed for. She hoped it stayed that way for him, but she wasn't so naïve to think that their world would be any better for him. They would do everything in their power to keep him content, though.

They stayed in Álasund only long enough to mourn their losses with Iceburg and his village, leaving two days after the funeral and celebrations. The few days there were busy for all of them. They had to unload the hoard to see it properly divided, restock the ships, and help prepare for the feasts.

Nami remained with the women, much to Kid's annoyance, and artfully avoided him every time he tried to corner her to steal the affection he swore to get every day. It might only be a kiss he sought every night, but she still hesitated to give it. Their time in England showed her that one kiss was never enough for either of them. Between Gunda and Kalifa, she was well guarded against him most of the time, and if they weren't enough to keep him at bay, Sind made for an ideal distraction that stole her away from Kid any time he got too close.

She visited Kokoro their last night in Álasund, shared with her the wine they promised to return with, and told her all that she had experienced in England. Sind came along to play with Chimney. When the young girl learned that he didn't yet speak Norse, she took up the task to teach him as many words as she could. She dragged him over the island, pointing at trees and rocks and streams while saying their names for him to repeat. The kindness gave Nami hope that he would receive the same help from the people in Drafn, just as Kid promised.

She had learned much on her journey, but the hardships she faced left her eager to return home, or at least what had become her home. Her world promised enough hardships in the future, for now she desperately needed a respite, a chance to soothe her weary heart. She needed to rejoice in the life she had while she still had it.

The long, winding fjord that would lead to their homes invited them to relax, to breathe a sigh of relief, and look forward to greeting their families with the treasures they secured. As weary as they all were from the voyage, the ship thrummed with energy that grew with every familiar landmark they passed. Men spoke of seeing their wives or lovers again, often with vulgar detail of what they intended to do the moment they crossed the threshold into their home. Others spoke of seeing their children, their parents. One looked forward to greeting his horse. Another just wanted his own bed without the ragged snoring of his brothers to interrupt his sleep.

Kid didn't bother to join in their conversation, but the looks he cast to her from the stern said enough. In his hall, she would have nowhere to flee from his advances, and the thought left her an odd mixture of fearful and giddy that she couldn't yet comprehend. He had made his intentions clear, but her own interests remained muddled with grief and worry and confusion over feelings she never anticipated having in her life. She didn't know where this path might lead them, or whether it was the right course considering what she had seen, and that confusion made her wary of encouraging the bond and attraction that had grown between them. But at the same time, she was curious to know how it would feel to give in to the ecstasy unleashed in his embrace, regardless of whatever future lay ahead of them.

She cared for him, and she desired him, but to linger in those feelings was dangerous to them both, no matter how tempting they might be.

The horns echoed from the village when it came into sight and distracted Kid from the gazes he sent her. She eagerly set about preparing to land, helping the men gather the lines to cast to those waiting on the docks while other men used their oars to slow the ship. When the ship came to a halt and the ties were secure, Nami and Gunda helped Sind climb onto the dock, leaving the men behind to see to the chests and their hoards.

The docks were crowded with men ready to help the jarl and his men unload, so Nami snatch Sind's hand to keep him from getting lost or knocked into the water with all the commotion. The shore was lined with the rest of the village, women eagerly searching the ships for a glimpse of a lover or husband while they restrained excited children.

One of those children slipped away, much to her grandmother's consternation, and ran on small, clumsy legs between the men, aiming for Nami. She nearly tripped a few men in her haste, and nearly tripped, herself, but managed to break through the worst of the crowd with a bright smile. Nami released Sind's hand as she crouched down to catch the little girl in a hug, laughing at the unexpectedly excited greeting.

"I see we were missed," Nami said.

"Magnus took my doll again and ripped its hair out," she explained. "I told him that you'd punish him for it when you returned."

"Oh, is that so?" she huffed, searching through the crowd until she spotted a boy duck behind his mother before sprinting away from the water. "I'll see that he pays a fine for it, or have Jarl Eustass put him to work."

"What are you volunteering me for?" Kid grunted as he came up behind her, a chest perched on his shoulder. His injuries had healed well enough that the task didn't strain him much, but she could tell he was still uncomfortable as he shifted the weight to rest better on his shoulder.

"One of the boys ruined her doll," she said and then turned back to the girl. "I'll help you make a new doll." She glanced to the boy hovering uncertainly at her side. " _If_ you promise to help welcome Sind into the village. Sind, this is Ingvild," she introduced, gesturing to the girl so he might understand her. "And her grandmother, Ingrid," she added as she pointed toward the old lady waiting at the end of the docks.

He nodded and repeated each name, earning a smile and pat on the head from Kid while Ingvild stared at him curiously, her head cocked to the side. Nami didn't give her long to ponder the boy's origins as she picked her up to perch on her hip and carry back down the dock. She took Sind's hand again and led the way to Ingrid, the old lady tutting and mumbling under her breath as she glowered at her granddaughter. Gunda followed behind her, muffling her laughter as Ingvild clung around Nami's neck. Kid's heavier footsteps rang off the wooden deck just behind them, grunting and cursing under his breath as he walked.

Ingrid greeted them with a confused look, pointedly staring at the boy at Nami's side and their clasped hands. "Whose child is this?" she asked.

"Just another stray," Kid grunted as he passed by. He grazed his free hand over her back and she went stiff with the touch. He said nothing else as he headed toward his hall, leaving her to explain while ignoring the tingle crawling up her spine from his fleeting touch.

Ingrid frowned at the child and then cast a sweeping gaze over the men leaving the ships. Her frown deepened when she met Nami's gaze again. "I see another stray of his missing," she said solemnly. "I fear you have brought back unhappy news with your hoard."

Nami tried to smile, but it trembled at the thought of recounting all that happened in England. "Bittersweet," she insisted. "Let's go to the hall. I need to find something for Sind to eat. We can talk there."

Ingrid gave a stern, understanding nod and Gunda hurried to the old woman's side to help her to the hall.

She was tired and in need of rest, but she had a child to see to and a meal to help prepare as the villagers began to gather in the hall, all interested in news of the raid. They would, once again, need to prepare for another funeral for those lost from their territories, but that night was only for celebration and stories. Halle led a chorus of men in song. Kid drank with his men until most were asleep at their tables. Hróarr broke into a fit of sobs after too much ale and Heat hauled him off to rest. Gunda stayed at her side until she was falling asleep beside her. Sind had fallen asleep on Nami lap while she examined Ingvild's doll and considered if she could salvage the poor thing. As the revelry wore down, Killer came to carry Sind off to a bed, freeing Nami to go to bed, too.

She said her good-nights to those still awake and shuffled off to her room without a thought. She wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep, but when she reached her room, she found her chest sitting there and groaned at the thought of all that she needed to wash. She was going to have a busy day tomorrow between washing and mending and sewing new clothes for Sind. She was exhausted just thinking about it.

She pushed the chest to the corner, resolving not to think about her chores until the morning, and began to take the braids from her hair to comb the long strands out. Her hair needed washing, too, and she longed for another bath. She promised herself that she would find the time for one the next day.

A floorboard creaked behind her as she set her pins on her table. She began to turn to see who was there, but was startled by two strong arms embracing her and a large body crashing into her back.

"Finally have you to myself," Kid slurred as he brushed his lips against her neck. The coarse hairs of his beard tickled her skin, sent a shudder of pleasure down her spine, and the kiss he left only made the sensation grow stronger. He hadn't done anything more and her breath was already growing short and her legs weak. He groaned as he clutched her tight and suckled the tender spot beneath her ear that made her mind go numb with pleasure.

She realized that she truly had nowhere to run now that they were home. With their adjoining rooms, he was free to come and go as he pleased, unless she put an end to this first.

"Kid, stop," she pleaded, forcing her mind to retain some reason as she pushed at his arms. He growled and held her tighter, so she slammed her elbow into his gut as hard as she could. He released her with a coughed curse, stumbling back as he gasped in a breath. She turned to him and glared with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "Go to your bed," she ordered.

He rubbed his injured stomach and glared back. "You avoid me in Álasund, now I finally get you alone and you shove me away? That ain't fair."

"We discussed this, Kid," she huffed. "You can't push this on me."

"I ain't pushing anything," he argued. "Just keeping my promise to prove myself to you."

"And how is cornering me in my bedroom with the intention of seducing me going to do that?"

He scratched his beard as he glowered. "I wasn't going to seduce you."

"Oh? You weren't? So, you were just going to force yourself on me, then?" she asked, her brow raised, daring him to refute her.

Kid hissed and looked away. "I wasn't planning to do that, either. You know how feel about that, Kitten." She didn't allow herself to relax at his reassurance. He might not respect a man that took a woman by force, but that didn't mean he was incapable of doing it himself. He was plenty forceful when it came to getting her kisses in England. "I just want a kiss before bed."

"And if I say no?" Her brow rose higher as she leaned against her table.

He scratched his beard again as he frowned. "Tsh, not even one?" Her arms tightened over her chest and she narrowed her eyes on him. Kid hissed again. "You were plenty generous in giving them before."

Nami pursed her lips and then relaxed with a sigh. "Things are different now, Kid. We're home. We're back in a stable world, with rules and expectations. There are boundaries you have to respect."

Kid sneered, but she silenced any possible argument with a glare.

"What happened in England might have opened my eyes to something else existing between us, but that doesn't change the fact I cannot enter into this relationship so impulsively. I have far more to consider than a night in your bed," she explained.

"I was hoping for more than one night," he muttered under his breath.

She threw a comb at him. "One night or an eternity of nights, it doesn't matter…. Actually, I would say that if you were seeking the latter, that is even more reason for me not to jump in without giving this proper consideration."

"I already told you I don't give a shit about the curse, and I don't think you should worry about it, either," he grumbled as he stumbled back to fall onto her bed. He slumped over to scrub his face in his hands, releasing a frustrated, tired groan. "But I know I shouldn't expect you to change your mind that quick. I told you that I'd prove my worth."

"Yet you still corner me, seeking affection in the privacy of my bedroom… I highly doubt you would stop yourself if I give in to your seduction."

He glanced over his hands to glare, but then the look softened as his gaze swept over her. "You got a point there," he relented, hiding his face in his hands again. "You can shove me down and mount me right now and I'd just praise the gods for it."

She rolled her eyes. "You act like you've been suffering a lifetime, not a few weeks."

"It's been a long few weeks," he grumbled.

"Well, then you better get used to the suffering because I intend to do this properly," she said with a decisive nod. She had made up her mind on one thing, at least. He glanced up again, brow raised in silent question. "You know that my family is unique in its matriarchal status."

"And? What's that got to do with this?"

"Men were forbidden within the clan's immediate family except for those deemed suitable to father the next heir," she reminded. "My foremothers were not allowed to wed, or even humor an affair with a man outside of the fertility ritual." Kid scowled, his brows furrowed as she spoke. He looked confused and ready to argue whatever point she was making, but she held up a hand to say she wasn't done. "I doubt you've given thought to the idea of fathering the next daughter of my lineage. In fact, I doubt you've even thought of that consequence at all." He looked away with a hiss to tell her that she was not wrong. She continued. "What you're seeking with me is expressly forbidden. In the past, I would have been given no choice in this matter. In the absence of male relatives, my mother and the clan's priestesses and shieldmaidens would have only considered a suit under the terms of the ritual and nothing more. Any man seeking more was banned from showing their face in our territory again, if not killed."

She held her head a little higher and looked down her nose at Kid. "They had standards for the men they chose, too. As a jarl with a… _respectable_ amount of wealth, they might have considered you a worthy partner, but the moment you voiced your true intentions, you would be found lacking. And if marriage, or any other form of union, _was_ permitted, their standards would likely hold you to greater scrutiny that I'm not sure your current station would meet."

Kid growled. "Why not?"

"Because marriage is meant to be to the advantage of both families. In their eyes, you would benefit most in the union, while I would be hobbled. You might be a jarl, but my family had influence and power in their territory… _Greater_ than what you have here," she explained.

His eyes narrowed on her. "That is all based on a world that no longer exists to you, Nami. As it stands now, you're little more than a vagrant with good breeding," he growled.

She threw a cup at him for the insult. He batted it away as he stood.

"None of that matters now," he said firmly as he stalked closer. "You don't have a family or clan to assess me, and I made it perfectly clear that the only person I plan to prove myself to is _you_." He came to stand in front of her and leaned down, planting his hands on the table beside her as he leveled his hard gaze with hers. She held a hand to his chest to keep him at bay, in case he sought more affection she wasn't willing to give, but he didn't try to come any closer. "All that crap about your family being _better_ , being _particular_ about the men they brought in, you're just grasping for something that might scare me off or make me doubt my own intentions. All you've told me is that the decision is clearly _yours_ to make, and no one else's. I've already made up my mind, I _will_ have you, and I _will_ keep you at my side for as long as I can. All I need to do is convince you to see things my way."

"You seem so sure of yourself," she huffed.

He smiled mischievously. "Because I know you want to give in," he said while he brought his hand up to graze his fingertips over her neck. She shivered as they teased beneath her ear and he chuckled. "And I know just the spots that will make your resolve soften."

She slapped his hand away and glared. " _Seduction_ is not the same thing as proving your worth, Kid. What you've been suggesting is akin to a formal courtship, and if that's what you _do_ intend, I mean to see you keep to some sort of proper behavior and tradition."

"Tsh, and what tradition would that be? You said it yourself, you have no kin for me to negotiate with. Shit, you don't even have a dowry to make this worth the cost of a _proper fucking courtship_." He sneered at the words with obvious contempt and she found that she wanted to smack him for it. "Unless you plan to wipe my debt away in recompense."

"I'm being serious, Kid."

"So am I," he argued. "But fine, you want me to go through with this farce, I'll do it, but…" He leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek before she could stop him, boxing her in with his arms so she couldn't pull away. "I said I would shower you with gold and trinkets, whatever you desire, but I also mean to kiss you every chance I get," he muttered against her cheek. "When all I need is _your_ approval, then I have no reason to hold back." He pulled away to grin at her. "I mean to use every tool at my disposal to win you over."

She bit back a whimper as she frowned. She wasn't sure she would last if he followed through with that plan. Her cheek still tingled from his kiss, the skin uncomfortably cold without it.

"This path seems too easy," she muttered. Kid cocked his head to the side as he swept a hair behind her ear, urging her to explain what that meant. "I don't trust it."

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly as his fingertips grazed down her neck.

She pursed her lips and fought back a shiver. "Yes," she admitted after a moment of thought.

Kid grinned. "Then that's all that should matter."

"Do you trust me?" she dared to ask as his fingers ran over her jaw to hook on her chin. His brows furrowed in confusion. "Do you trust me to take the course that's best for _both_ of us? I've foreseen a storm on the horizon, Kid. I cannot blindly have faith that _this_ will succeed, not until I know what dangers lie ahead."

He hummed in thought, his gaze searching her eyes a moment before they fell to her lips. He stole a kiss, firm but gentle, just enough to make her feel like she would melt if he gave her another. He pulled back just enough to let her see the crinkling of his eyes as he smiled. "I trust you," he whispered, and then kissed her again.

She almost sank into him, but as she felt her stomach flip and twist with a strange urgency for _more_ , she clung to her rational mind and shoved him back. He broke the kiss with a grin and laugh.

"One more," he urged.

"No," she snapped, pushing him back. "I know where that _one more_ will lead now, so don't even try."

His smile grew mischievous as mirth shone in his eyes and he leaned back in. "Please."

" _No,_ " she said, firming her voice and glare in the hopes he would give up. He still managed to get close enough to brush his nose against hers and she shuddered at the scratch of his beard on her skin. "And you need to shave," she argued. Anything to deter him.

He pulled back laughing and scrubbed at the thickening scruff on his cheek. "I thought I'd keep it. I'm getting used to the chaffing."

"You can't stop scratching it," she said, giggling. "And it tickles."

His eyes heated and voice lowered. "That's why I want to keep it."

Her face warmed with a blush at the suggestiveness of his tone. He laughed again and stole another kiss, then straightened, finally retreating without having to be shoved off.

"Want to help me shave this off tomorrow?" he asked as he stretched his arms over his head. When he lowered his arms, his shoulders slouched and gave away his exhaustion.

Nami glanced to her chest of clothes. "I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Clothes need washing. Sind needs more to wear than the rags he's in now. I have to fix Ingvild's doll…"

"The clothes will keep until washing day," he argued. "Gunda can help with the boy's wardrobe. And it ain't going to take that long to clean me up, you'll have plenty of time to fix that doll."

"I also need a bath," she huffed.

His grin grew impossibly wide. "Perfect, so do I. I'll join you."

She had nothing satisfyingly hard to throw at him within reach, so she let her hand fall to the knife in her belt. Kid understood the warning and backed up a step, his grin never wavering.

"I'm teasing," he insisted.

Her glare hardened a moment, and then she relaxed with a huff. Fighting off his advances was going to be exhausting.

"I'll pay you," he said, tempting her to give in to his wishes.

"Fine." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Two pieces of gold and five of silver is my starting fee for this chore."

"Instead of gold, can I pay you with something else?" He waggled his brow suggestively.

" _No_ ," she bit out. "Gold and silver, or you do it yourself."

He sighed begrudgingly, but a smile threatened to pull at his lips. He wasn't so put out with the fee as he seemed. "Tomorrow morning, then. After you've had a chance to bathe," he said as he turned for his room.

She waved him off as she slumped against her table, even more eager to fall into bed and sleep away all the troubles he was intent on causing her.

But before Kid reached his room, he spun back around and crossed to her once again. She straightened, fully expecting what he did next, but unable to stop him. He snatched her by the arm, dug his hand in her hair, and dragged her into another kiss, heated and urgent, then pushed himself away once she was breathless and desperate for more.

He retreated to his room with a cocky grin and bark of laughter as she blinked from the lustful stupor he left her in.

"Good night, Nami," he called as he vanished behind the curtain.

She slumped onto her table with a stifled whimper.

Only one thought broke through her haze – _She wasn't strong enough to resist him._

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _I keep being mean to Nojiko. At least Hachi's being kind to her, but I do feel bad. She has a while yet before she escapes her suffering, in the mean time, she's the point of view that will give you some plot advancement in terms of Arlong._

 _As for Arlong - please remember that Kid and Nami are the main characters and focus of this fic, so Arlong is only going to sporadically appear when I need him to, at least until his arc. And I told all of you the arrangement of my arcs a few chapters ago, so please be patient while we get through the Enel arc. A lot of shit is going to happen in this arc, Arlong will slowly become more relevant, but, again, this whole fic is based around Kid and Nami and their growth as individuals and as a couple._

 _The next... I want to say three or four chapters are going to have a lot of fluff and sexual tension between them. They went through a lot of shit in England, and when Enel comes into the picture... It's not going to be pretty. There's a body count. I'll warn you now, there will be multiple deaths (not just my OCs), and a ton of angst and hardship for Kid and Nami. This short period is going to be their only real chance to explore their romantic and sexual attraction now that I've fully established it exists. So let them have their moment of happiness. It will be brief._

 _And yes, the Kid in my brain is cringing at the word 'courtship' but for this time period, it's really the only word that describes what he's doing and the status of their relationship. Oh, and you'll officially find out the social status of Nami's family (besides seers and priestesses) in this arc._

 _And I realized I never gave Ingrid's granddaughter a name, so I fixed that in this chapter because I can't keep calling her 'Ingrid's granddaughter'._

 _Thanks for all your reviews and kind words so far. They really help motivate me to put a lot of work and research into this fic. :)_


	22. Chapter 22

_Warning: Sexual content. Mention of gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The First Choice_

Kid might as well be walking on clouds, he was in such a good mood. He returned home from England with fresh wealth and a beautiful woman who filled him with an intoxicating, addictive bliss he never wanted to live without.

Even after a night of restless sleep, he still woke eager to face the day. He had wanted to slip into her bed all night, soothe the urgent need to have her in his arms, but he held back and lulled himself to sleep as he contemplated what his next move would be.

Nami was right, he couldn't force his way and skip all the ceremony if he wanted her to be his. He wasn't after a night with her, he wasn't interested in making her a concubine, and he didn't want to be yet another man used to continue her lineage and tossed away after serving that purpose. He wanted to share his bed with her every night, have her seated at his side every day, and give her the life she should have had all along, one where she was free to choose her fate. But those simple desires were overshadowed by the raw lust that drove him to corner her, seduce her, steal her warm affection every chance he could, and twist his intentions into something they weren't.

She avoided him as much as she could until they returned to Drafn, leaving him to wonder if he had misunderstood what happened between them in England. Killer told him to give her time, let her adjust to the change in their relationship. He had had time to consider everything he wanted from her on the way back to camp, he was a step ahead of her in acknowledging what was growing between them. Nami had even more to consider than he had. She had her fears and worries to overcome, while he only had to consider how he would win her over so she would never leave him.

Killer had already told him that he would have to take a careful approach, that he would have to _court_ her, just as Nami said when they finally spoke on the matter. His men had nagged him to consider courting a woman when he became a jarl. He had an inheritance to consider, needed to protect his title with a wife and child. The women he knew in the village didn't appeal to him, no matter how much their fathers tried to sway his opinion. There was no advantage to him settling with any of them, either. Another thing Nami was right about – marriage had to be to his advantage, just as much as the woman's. He wouldn't stand to gain anything from marrying any of the women brought before him years ago, maybe a child and a dull marriage, but little else he cared about. And it would have been the same with the neighboring jarls and landowners.

None had felt right and there were plenty of families he had a contemptible opinion of from his childhood. If they were friendly with his father, they were cold to him, but once he overthrew his father, they came to him with adulation and praise he knew was nothing but a farce, an attempt to take advantage of a boy they thought too ignorant to know better. He kicked them out of his hall as coldly as they would have turned their backs on him. He didn't need disloyal boot-lickers clawing at what he had earned, and he certainly didn't need their greedy daughters occupying his bed.

Nami was greedy, but at least she was honest about it. She was kind, too. Genuinely caring. Yet she would never roll over and let him walk all over her. She would stand her ground and speak her mind without fear, and beat his ass if he ever stepped out of line with her. She was the perfect combination of warm and stern. He could confide in her, trust that she wouldn't judge, would console him as he needed, and give him well thought advice to broaden his perspective. If he became too brutish or demanding or obstinate, she would set him back in his place with her own fire and stubborn will. She would challenge him, never let his power get to his head and corrupt him.

She was the type of woman he needed at his side, the only one he felt he could trust to be a partner to him. And now that he realized what she meant to him, he would go to whatever lengths necessary to have her.

He was fortunate he didn't have to negotiate with her family, that was one ordeal he would have loathed, but he still had to win Nami's approval. He had always found the whole concept of courtship dull and useless, but he felt no desire to prove himself to any woman before. He was a jarl. He was strong. He had wealth. What more did they need to see to approve? Nami helped him realize there was more he had to provide than a hall and some gold, at least for her. Even as she tried to look down her nose at him and play the part of spoiled princess with lofty standards, he knew for a fact she didn't give a shit about his title or his wealth… Well, she cared about his wealth, but she could find wealth in another jarl or a king, or just swindle it from some poor sod who couldn't say no to her pretty smile.

Nami cared most about being safe and being free. She cared about having a shoulder to lean on when she was tired from all the burdens weighing on her back. She cared about having a friend she could trust with her secrets. She cared about having a hand to hold as she grieved. She cared about having a home, a real home, filled with laughter and song and people free to live without fear of the man ruling over them.

He had provided all of that for her, but she was set on making him go through the dance of courtship, and he was willing to do it if only to ease her fears of where this path might lead. She would be wary, but he would be bold. She would make him play her game to keep him at arm's length, and he would change the rules to steal her into his embrace. He had set his sights on a treasure he _would_ have, and nothing would stand in his way of attaining her.

Except he still had no strategy in winning her outside of seduction.

If only it could be that easy. Her kisses never failed to light a fire in him, make him thrum with energy he wanted to unleash by taking her to bed and making her scream to the gods with ecstasy. He was certain that it _could_ be that easy – Nami was far from unaffected by his touch – but the easy route was not always the right one.

So, he spent his morning mulling over a course of action. As Nami helped shave the beard he let overtake his jaw in England, he set those thoughts to brew at the back of his mind while savoring her gentle, sure touch. He nearly fell asleep to the sound of her sweet laughter and the feel of her fingers combing through his hair to signal she was done. Then she pinched his cheek to wake him and demanded her payment.

He gave her the gold and silver she asked for, and then an extra piece to pay for the kiss he stole before she could escape him. The kiss had been enough to inspire him as he watched Nami flee him, her cheeks burning with a blush he was proud to be the reason for.

He sought the only real charmer he knew for advice and found him brushing down a mare in the stables. Halle was good with the horses. He could be mischievous and sly, but he had a soothing presence that set many at ease, and that ability was not only reserved for women, even if it was what he was known for. He was one of the best men he knew with a lyre and he sang well enough to make a story come to life, or make a woman swoon. He had been accused more times than a man should be of stealing a wife, but as far as Kid knew he was innocent of the charges. At least he swore that he was. It was always hard to tell when he'd give a wink and smile behind a man's back. Kid preferred to think the man was smart enough to keep his dick in his pants when it came to married women, and was just full of shit when he bragged otherwise.

"Halle," Kid called, interrupting the man as he hummed to the mare while stroking over her soft mane.

"Jarl Eustass." Halle eyed him warily as he came closer. "I swear I haven't tried to flirt with Lady Nami at all today," he said suddenly.

Kid narrowed his eyes on him. "I'd hope not, but that ain't why I'm here."

Halle breathed a sigh of relief and went back to his work. "Did you need something of me?"

Kid grunted as he glanced around. He didn't want anyone overhearing this conversation. When he was certain they were alone, he draped an arm around Halle's shoulder and leaned in close. "Don't fucking laugh," he warned when the man met his hard gaze. Halle's brow rose, but he gave a nod and pursed his lips to say he wouldn't. Kid glared a moment longer, then forced himself to relax with a huff. "I'm going to court Nami," he growled lowly.

Halle's lips pursed tighter, his brows rose with delight, and he barely stifled a snort of laughter. He was going to see that the whole damn village knew about this by the end of the day. Fucking lousy gossips.

"Don't mock me," Kid snarled. Halle made a strange squeak, but didn't seem to hold an ounce of fear. He was just trying to hold back his laughter. "Help me think up a gesture, or I'm going to throw you in the fjord," he threatened. "With a rock tied to your neck."

To Halle's credit, he stuffed down his mirth, forcing his expression to turn serious. His hazel eyes still glinted with amusement, but his smile was more honest.

"You wouldn't do that," he said, calling the bluff for what it was. "But, rather than risk it, since this is your relationship with Lady Nami we're talking about, I'd be more than happy to help. What have you done for her so far?"

"Kiss her breathless count?" he asked bluntly.

Halle snorted. "I would say so, but tradition might frown on that. I would count the chest you gave her in England as a gift. It was a thoughtful gesture, after all. A personal gift that you knew would mean something to her, and you won it through battle, thus showing your strength, as well as your knowledge of her. Not to mention your devotion to her happiness."

Kid ignored the sense of embarrassment that welled within him at the point Halle made. Had he truly begun this whole _courtship_ before he had even kissed her? He _had_ gathered the parchment and books solely for Nami's use.

Halle hummed in thought. "I know many women who enjoy small gifts. A new string of beads for her brooches. A new comb. A flower."

Kid sneered at the last suggestion and Halle laughed.

"I know many women love to receive flowers," Halle teased. "Lady Nami is as beautiful as any flower I have seen."

Kid growled at him. Halle only continued to laugh.

"You're the one daring to _court_ her. At least you don't have to worry about her family's wrath coming down upon you for this… Well, I hope you don't. Those tales would leave a lesser man worried," Halle placated. "Give the gifts some thought. I assure you Lady Nami would be delighted by anything from you."

Halle's knowing wink filled him with confidence.

And then he imagined himself giving Nami a flower and felt his face heat with mortifying embarrassment. She'd likely laugh in his face at the pathetically romantic gesture that was not characteristic of him.

Was this really what he wanted? Was this really worth the effort?

A quick memory of the warmth of her lips on his and the sweet sound of her pleasured sighs reminded him that _yes_ , this was what he wanted, and so long as it all ended with her in his bed and at his side, then it was absolutely worth the embarrassment.

Just to be safe, though, he needed an emissary.

Decided, he gave Halle a firm slap on the back in gratitude and left him to search out his agent. He had the perfect person in mind, one that Nami wouldn't be able to laugh at, and she would probably love the gift even more if given with innocent hands.

He found the brats in front of his hall. Ingvild was trying to weave _something_ with tiny, clumsy hands while Sind hovered beside her, watching with keen interest. Another little girl, a few years older than Ingvild, sat at her other side, giggling when the colorful strings snarled around Ingvild's fingers. He didn't see Nami anywhere nearby, much to his luck. Usually she would be helping the girl, teaching her how to weave, and he would have to wait until a convenient distraction stole her away before he could enlist the girl's aid.

He crept up, keeping an eye out for Nami, and came to crouch in front of Ingvild. He watched her try to untangle her fingers for a moment, amused when she only tied herself up more, and then helped tug the strings from around her fingers.

"Where's Nami?" he whispered, peering around the children to see if Nami was inside his hall.

"She's making him new clothes," Ingvild said, gesturing to Sind. She then blinked up at him, wide-eyed. "I think she's mad at you. She keeps saying bad things under her breath about you."

Kid tried not to grin, but failed. "She's always mad at me," he reassured. He earned her ire honestly, at least. "But, perhaps you could do me a favor that would make Nami feel better." Ingvild cocked her head to the side, confused. He glanced around again, searching for any witnesses. The only one close enough to hear anything was Ingrid, and the old lady was sleeping in a chair on his porch as if she owned the damn hall. He leaned in closer to Ingvild. "Go gather some flowers and give them to Nami."

The girls' eyes lit up and they dropped the strings they were weaving without a second thought. They took off sprinting away from the hall, leaving Sind behind to stare at them, brows furrowed in confusion. Kid flicked the boy in the forehead to get his attention on him. "Go find Killer. You need to practice your Norse, brat."

Sind scowled as he rubbed his forehead, then stood with a huff to stomp off in search of Killer. Kid straightened with a chuckle and then leaped onto his porch. He settled into a chair next to the old woman, slumping down to get comfortable. Ingrid had a good idea napping, even if it was still early. He shut his eyes to rest while he waited for the girls to return and grace Nami with his token.

A hand smacked him sharp on the back of the head. He sat up, growling at the old woman beside him. She had an eye open, set in a hard glare. She smacked him again when he sneered at her.

"Don't send my granddaughter to court your woman," she snapped. He growled out a curse, earned another strike, and then Ingrid shut her eye to return to her nap while grumbling under her breath about men these days having no sense about them. Kid rolled his eyes and ignored her.

He had plenty of sense. He knew his woman. She'd be more thankful to receive a handful of wildflowers from a little girl than she'd be if she received it directly from him. His hands were more suited to hold a sword or axe, not a bunch of flowers. Everyone would laugh at the odd display, and then his temper would ruin the whole gesture. At least this way he could deny they came from him should anyone else ask. Only Nami needed to know.

He caught movement at the door, a flash of amber hair, and Kid quickly shut his eyes, pretending to nap with Ingrid. He heard Nami huff, then stomp over to him. She smacked him in the back of the head and he bit back a curse as he glared up at her.

"What?" he growled.

"Don't you have work to do?" she snapped.

"No," he grumbled, and sank back into his chair, shutting his eyes.

He bit his cheek to keep from smiling at her next huff. She muttered something under her breath, a series of curses that had him swallowing a laugh.

"Where did the children go?" she asked next.

"Girls ran off a minute ago," he said with a shrug. "Sent Sind to find Killer and practice his Norse." The boy was learning plenty now that he was immersed in their world, but he was still slow to understand. With Killer's help, it wouldn't be long before he spoke the language as well as a native.

Nami groaned. "I just finished his new shirt. I wanted him to try it on and then re-pin his trousers. And the girls were helping weave the trim."

Kid shrugged. "He can try it on later. And the girls will be back."

She let out a defeated sigh and he listened to the scuff of her shoes as she turned to go back inside. He peeked open an eye to watch her walk away, but when he saw her pause and glance over her shoulder at him, he slammed his eye shut. She smacked him upside the head again and didn't back down as he snarled at her. His head was sore from all the strikes.

"Go find something productive to do," she snapped. He growled at her. She growled back. It took every ounce of his control to remain seated in that chair and not haul her over his shoulder and into his room. He could find something _very_ productive to do with her in his bed. When she saw he wasn't going to heed her commands, she gave up with a short huff and spun away, muttering, "Lazy, incorrigible oaf," as she disappeared inside.

Kid sank back into his chair with a chuckle. She was definitely the woman for him.

"This better be a quick courtship," he heard Ingrid mumble beside him. "Or you're going to be saddled with a bastard before you know it and facing the pointy end of her father's sword."

Kid shrugged indifferently. There was no father for him to worry about. No brother or uncle, either. No family, whatsoever. Only a jarl Nami wanted nothing to do with and a tribe of gods that would see him cursed straight to his death and sent to Niflhel if he didn't treat Nami right.

That thought gave him pause. He probably shouldn't risk a lengthy courtship. If only to keep his wits intact. He would need them if he meant to survive his fate.

* * *

Kid woke from his nap to find a cup of ale set on a small table beside him and two little girls snickering where they sat on the porch in front of him. They had returned to the chore Nami had given them, weaving green, brown, and blue threads for Sind's clothing. Ingrid was snoring in her chair.

Humming caught his attention and he glanced toward the door to watch Nami come outside. She held a Ingvild's damaged doll and a knot of yellow thread in her hand. She smiled when she noticed him looking toward her. It was bashful and sweet and she ducked her head to hide a faint blush behind her hair as she took a seat with the girls. The two girls giggled even more when Nami began to hum again. They looked toward him with matching grins, and he understood what their laughter was for.

Nami had gotten his gift and she liked it. Her improved mood told him as much, but the girls' teasing laughter made it obvious that the token delighted her. And he was rewarded for the thought with ale.

He sank back into his chair with a smug grin. He'd have to give Halle less shit about his flirting. The man obviously knew better when it came to women, and Kid wasn't about to belittle that after it helped him. So long as he didn't flirt with Nami any more, then Kid couldn't care less what Halle did.

Kid drank his ale and then decided he had been lazy enough. He stood up, stretching to relieve the knots and tension from sleeping in the chair. His shoulder still ached from his battles, but it didn't twinge as much when he moved. Nami's humming ceased and he looked down to see her watching him through the veil of her hair. Her gaze wasn't on his face, it lingered low, filled with curiosity. She nibbled her lip, then caught him staring, and snapped her gaze away to focus back on the doll she was repairing. Her whole posture was stiff and he spied another blush creeping over her cheeks.

He was already going to gloat the whole afternoon after seeing how much she liked his gift, but witnessing evidence of her desire made his pride swell. He chuckled to himself as he stepped off the porch, grazing his hand over the top of Nami's head to tell her he had noticed her stare. She refused to look at him.

"I'm going to look for the boy, see how he's doing with Killer," he told her. "I'll send him back to the hall for you."

Nami gave a stuttered nod, her gaze intent on the doll as she threaded new hair into its cloth head. He laughed at her shyness and headed off to find his cousin.

Killer had tasked himself to oversee their men cleaning out the ships that day. He sat on the side of a ship with Sind next to him, directing the men as they tidied the lines and inspected the minor damages that would need repairing. Kid could hear his low voice as he ordered Sind to repeat what he said and gesture toward the man performing the task described. They were trying to translate fewer things into English, speaking more and more Norse that he would have to figure out on his own. He would learn faster by associating the words with objects and people and actions, not connecting them to another language.

Kid jumped aboard the ship to sit across from Killer. His cousin and the boy looked up to him, Killer's brow raising in silent question when he noticed Kid's good mood. Kid said nothing, but Killer knew him well enough that he didn't have to say a word.

Killer sighed. "Halle said he gave you advice. I take it your first gift was a success?"

Kid's grin managed to grow wider in answer. Killer snorted.

"The whole village already knows of your intentions," his cousin said. "Halle wasted no time in spreading the gossip."

Kid couldn't find it in him to care.

"You're not angry that the men are talking about you two?" Killer mused, shaking his head to hide his smile. "You're taking this surprisingly well."

"She blushed," he admitted. "And I caught her staring at me like she wanted to shove me down and mount me. I don't give a shit what the men talk about. My girl wants me, that's all that matters."

"Remember, you're not supposed to be seducing her," Killer reminded. "At least not so quickly."

Kid waved him off. "I know," he said, though he had every intention of stealing another kiss before bed.

"Have you given any thought to your next gift?" Killer asked.

Kid leaned back, his gaze drifting up to the blue sky. "Halle mentioned beads for her brooches, or maybe a comb. She does love to comb out her hair every night."

"But she just bought one when she settled here," Killer pointed out. "And I know Nami likes to string her own beads, but you can see if any of the villagers have made new beads to give her." Kid hummed, considering it. "You could always make her something," Killer added.

Kid turned his gaze back to him. "Like what?"

Killer shrugged. "Something unique. Something that reminds you of her, or will remind her of you. You can show off your own craftsmanship skills to her. She knows you can build remarkable ships, but she doesn't know how well you shape wood or metal beyond that. She was impressed with your ship and the decoration of the wale. Impress her with something only for her."

Kid hummed in thought. That wasn't a bad idea. In fact, it was an even better idea than the stupid flowers, and less embarrassing. He should have talked to Killer first.

But what to make for her? That would take some more thought. Something unique to her. Maybe a figure for her family. On the voyage back, he had overheard her talking to Heat about creating an altar to further focus the magic the gods gave her. She could use a figure of those gods as an offering, to venerate those closest to her. He thought to carve her a set of runes, but he knew that was a task best left to her when she was ready. She would need to infuse her own spirit into each one, and she would want to choose the material. She might want to use amber for those, not wood or metal. A figure was the better option. So, which god within her family should he carve first?

He stood and waved at Sind. "Nami's finished some of your clothes. She needs you to try them on. I'll continue your lessons with you at the hall."

Sind nodded and Killer helped him climb onto the dock. Kid sauntered after the boy as he took off running for the hall, eager to see his new clothes.

He thought on his next gift through the afternoon. He watched Nami as she stuffed Sind into his new clothes to see that they fit. She huffed and fussed as she pinned the trim in place around his collar and sleeves, preparing it to be sewn. She snapped at Kid for staring while she hemmed Sind's trousers, but he only continued to watch her. When her chores moved to preparing the night's meal, she smacked him in the face with a wooden spoon and ordered him to do something useful. He grudgingly dragged Sind off to fetch fresh water so they could wash up, all the while silently thinking.

Nami fidgeted through most of the meal beside him while he continued to scrutinize her, searching for inspiration. She shoved his face away when it irritated her enough and he tossed aside his musings to laugh at her red, puffed up cheeks and fiery glare. He turned his staring into a game, annoying her further as he forgot his meal in favor of leaning onto the arm of her chair and staring at the side of her face. She tried to look away, ignore him, but he only leaned forward to put himself directly in front of her. She smacked him away, but he returned a moment later to start over again until she was cursing at him openly.

Once she started yelling at him, the other men joined in the game, all reveling in her fiery reactions. Killer was the first to join. He had silently slipped into the chair on Nami's other side while she was busy hissing at him. When Kid continued his staring, she turned her head away, intent on ignoring him again, only to find Killer leaning on the other arm of her chair, _staring_. She screamed and slapped him away, then looked forward to find Halle and Axel perched on the front of their table with wide grins and gazes sparkling with amusement as they stared, too. Before she knew it, their table was crowded with men all silently staring at her. Even Sind had crawled beneath the table to perch on her legs and stare up at her. And Gunda had muscled her way in to the group to take a spot in front of Nami, prompting her to whine at the woman for betraying her.

By the time Nami was fed up with the game, every man there had a lump on their head or a red handprint on their cheek. Kid had received both, but he was too busy cackling on the floor to care about the pain. Sind's cheek was bright red from being pinched hard, but otherwise she went easy on the boy. Gunda received no punishment, only a pout from her lady before she was forgiven with a quiet huff.

Her ire left her when Kid shoved her down by the fire and handed over a fresh cup of ale, insisting she sit with them as they spent the rest of the night joking. Nami laughed with them once she was no longer the subject of their teasing, and even joined in as they threw casual insults back and forth. Sind had slipped into the group once he finished his chores, tasked with helping Gunda and the servants clean up the tables. He crawled between the men until he found his way to Kid, then settled into a spot on the floor between his legs and listened intently to the conversation, trying to keep up with what little of the language he understood.

Kid earned a sharp cuff to the ear when he tried to translate some of the raunchier barbs between the men. Nami scolded him for trying to teach him that language, but Kid just waved her off and assured her that the boy already knew plenty of foul words in English, so it only made sense to teach him a few of theirs. She rolled her eyes and gave up when the others just helped Kid with the lessons. If Sind knew nothing else in their language, he would at least know how to tell a man to go fuck himself in a number of creative ways.

Nami slipped off to her room when the conversation began to die down. The others were tired, taking off to their homes or laying out their furs. Sind had fallen asleep against Kid's leg, and he decided to call it a night there. He carried the boy to a bed of his own and then hurried off to his room, intent on catching a moment alone with Nami before she went to sleep.

He crept around his room as quietly as he could. He slipped off his shoes and tip-toed toward the edge of the curtain, listening intently to Nami on the other side. He heard her sigh and wondered what she was thinking.

When he peeked into her room, he saw her standing at her table, slipping her jewelry off. A pitcher sat next to her jewelry box, filled to the brim with white, yellow, and purple flowers that seemed to have captured her attention. He caught the corner of a smile as she gently placed a beaded necklace into the box he gave her in England. Two gifts to her sitting side by side, and Nami seemed pleased with them both.

He really needed to make sure his next gift was even better.

He stepped into her room just as she began to take out an earring, drawing her attention to him. Her smile turned into a glower, but she didn't say a word as he leaned against the wall, choosing to keep his distance so he could return to his earlier thoughts on what to make her.

"You're staring again," she remarked with a huff. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

"I'm thinking," he grunted. She raised her brow, urging him to elaborate. "I'm hoping if I stare long enough, you'll inspire something."

"Inspire something?" she asked with a giggle. "And what would I be inspiring, exactly?"

"Another gift," he said bluntly.

Her smile returned as her gaze dropped to the flowers in front of her. "I have to commend you on the flowers, even if you didn't pick them yourself."

He shrugged. "The girls know more about flowers than I do."

"I suppose that's true." She set her earrings into the jewelry box and then glanced up at him. "Thank you for them…" Her lips twisted into a teasing smile. "Or, I should say thank you for delegating the task."

He snorted. "You're welcome."

"Is your next gift going to be gathered by another emissary?"

He shook his head. "I'll do it myself this time."

"You have me curious," she said as she slipped out the pins that held her brooches in place.

His gaze dropped to her chest as she removed her brooches and the strings of beads between them. She set the pieces down on the table, delicately laying them out in front of her jewelry box.

"Can I get a hint of what you're thinking?" she asked while moving toward her bed and slipping out of the yellow apron dress she wore over a red linen shift. He noticed her white sleeping gown laid out on the bed and crossed his arms to restrain the overwhelming urge to help her undress.

"I'm going to make something for you," he said, digging his fingers into his arms as she began to undo the ties of her shift and slip it down.

She glanced over her shoulder with a bright smile, the top of her red dress gathered against her chest to keep him from catching a peek of more than her shoulders and arms. "What are you going to make?"

He shifted against the wall, sinking down a bit and crossing his legs to hide his arousal as she bent over to grab her sleeping gown. He bit back a disappointed groan when she slipped the gown over her head without removing her shift until the gown covered her.

"Not sure yet," he muttered. "Something sacred to your family, I think."

Nami snickered. "I thought you weren't trying to prove yourself to them?" She sat down on her bed once her clothes were folded and snatched up her comb to run through her hair as they talked.

"I'm not. I'm trying to impress you, and only you. But your magic is important to you, and you received that magic from the gods, so it's just as important I acknowledge them. If it were not for their mistakes, you wouldn't be with me right now," he explained. "I suppose I owe them some gratitude for that."

He could see Nami trying to restrain her smile as she dipped her head, hiding her happiness behind a strand of hair. He pushed off the wall to saunter toward her bed. She sat straighter when he lowered himself beside her. He brushed her hair from her face and listened to her release a long, shuddering breath.

"What gift do you think Freyja would be pleased to have me give you?" he asked as he watched her comb her hair, busying her trembling hands with the task.

She hesitated in giving an answer as she pursed her lips in thought. He grazed a finger down her neck as he waited and tried not to grin when she began to stammer a response. "Umm… Perhaps you should look to your own god for a gift," she said quietly. "Rather than Freyja, look to Odin. He was the one who gave counsel to her, likely even led me to you. Maybe you should think about what would please him."

He chuckled. "But Odin is not a god associated with _courtship_ , Nami. He has no place in this."

Nami shifted as he continued to run his finger over her neck, down to her shoulder. He tugged at her gown to expose her freckled skin and traced each faint dot of reddish-brown. There were over a dozen light ones set in haphazard clumps. He knew them all far more intimately than he ever imagined he would.

"Well…" Nami began and then paused to clear her throat. "What about poetry?"

He stopped tracing her freckles and looked up at her. She was staring away from him, her cheeks pink with another blush. He narrowed his eyes on her and thought about the suggestion. It wasn't even close to helping him figure out her next gift, but he was intrigued, nonetheless.

"Poetry?" he asked. "Why poetry?"

"Odin is a god of poetry," she said, daring to glance at him then flitting her gaze away. "And Freyja loves her poems," she added with a teasing smile.

He stared at her a moment, then snorted a quiet laugh. "You mean _mansongr?_ Isn't that supposed to be _improper?_ It would mean I know you far more _intimately_ than I ought to," he said, his voice turning raspy as he thought of how intimately he did already know her, and how much more intimate he wished to be. She merely shrugged in response, further intriguing him. "I've never composed anything like a love-poem, only battle songs, and I don't think you'd want to hear me mangle a half-hearted attempt at one. Freyja would be far from impressed."

"I doubt you would mangle it," she muttered. "Or, at the very least I wouldn't hate hearing it."

"Is that so?" he crooned as he began to trace over her shoulder once more. He felt inspired to do something to her when she shifted closer, encouraging his touch.

"You have a soothing voice… When you're not shouting and cursing, that is," she said with a short laugh.

He smiled at the compliment and leaned in to brush his lips over her shoulder. Her breath hitched.

"That poetry is far from my taste," he murmured. Then again, he never knew a woman like Nami to inspire it. She inspired him to do many things he might never have done in the past. He kissed her shoulder and listened to her breath come in a sharp gasp. "I don't want you to laugh at me," he whispered as he pressed a savoring kiss higher up her shoulder.

"I won't," she said, though her lips were pursed to restrain her smile.

He hummed into another kiss at the crook of her neck. She tilted her head, inviting him in. He groaned as he shifted closer, propped himself on an arm set behind her and gently wrapped his other arm around her waist.

"I thought you didn't want me seducing you," he muttered into another kiss.

"I don't," she said, her voice laced with a breathless sigh. "But the flowers _were_ a pleasant surprise. I was impressed to see you taking this seriously."

"So, this is a reward for good behavior?" He chuckled, trailing his lips up to her ear.

Nami hummed. "And I'm curious if you _could_ come up with a decent love poem." She snickered and he pulled back to glower at the mirth in her eyes. "You are capable of incite and thoughtful prose when you wish it. Your argument for why we should ignore every reason against pursuing this was moving and convinced me well enough that I'm willing to give you this chance to prove yourself. But you are gruff and crude and more suited to battle songs than love poems, so think of it as a challenge. I'm certain if you even attempt it, you would impress my family and earn their attention. Succeed, and you might win their favor and blessings."

Meaning they might shield them from the curse that plagued her foremothers. The fact she was thinking of ways to break it pleased him. She wanted this. For all her arguments and attempts to push him away, she still desired to have this relationship.

She turned into him and held his gaze, her eyes alight with mischief. "What would you say about me if you were to attempt a mansongr?"

He rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is? You're trying to pull compliments from me?"

"You've already admitted that you think I'm pretty," she teased, giggling at his annoyed growl. "Even if you delivered the message through a child."

"I've praised you before," he argued.

"You have," she agreed. "And I do like to hear you compliment my abilities more than my appearance, but you're more willing to give those than remark on the superficial."

He glowered. "You're really set on this?"

She nodded. "You don't have to make it a true poem or song, I just want to hear what thoughts come to mind when you look at me."

"I think you should know exactly what thoughts come to mind. I've been pretty explicit in telling you how strong my desire is." He snorted.

"And yet you balk at the idea of saying it now," she said, a brow raised. "You don't have to use flowery language. Use what words suit you best."

He pressed his forehead to her shoulder with a groan. "You do know most men can be outlawed or killed for this."

Nami snickered. "Well, they do say courtship is the greatest danger to a man's life." Kid gave a wry snort of agreement. "It's a good thing I don't intend to bring charges against you, and I have no kin to do so in my stead, either. Compared to most men, you have nothing to worry about but your own pride."

"So, you want to make a fool of me while forcing compliments from me?" He gave her a half-hearted glare. "Cruel woman."

She smiled wide and leaned in to brush her lips to his ear. "What if I offer a kiss in return?" she whispered. "Will you humor me, then?"

The offer had his attention. He pulled back to search her gaze, suspicious that this was another trick like the one she played for his gilded cross. She eased his doubts with a soft kiss, enticing him to give her what she asked for. He still chased after her lips when she pulled away, eager to kiss her more rather than risk saying anything foolish. She let him have his kiss, giggling against his lips as her fingertips gently caressed his cheek. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Nami drew back before he could do more than graze her lips with his tongue and pressed her fingers over his lips to block his attempt at stealing another kiss.

"Say something nice," she urged. His glare was met with a snicker and she brushed her nose against his. " _Please_."

He pulled her hand away and leaned closer. "Another kiss to inspire me, then," he murmured, sealing his lips to hers before she could stop him. She hummed and closed her eyes, as if savoring his kiss, and when he pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, warm and hazy with an unspoken invitation. "You taste sweeter than honey," he whispered and watched as her eyes lit up. She tried to stifle a giggle, but he heard it leak out and glared. "Don't laugh," he warned.

Nami shook her head and apologized with her kiss. So long as she kept kissing him of her own free will, he couldn't possibly remain annoyed with her.

"As intoxicating as mead," he whispered when she took a breath. She gave her approval in the next kiss, allowing him to deepen it as he grazed his fingers over her cheek. "Your skin…" He frowned in thought, glaring at his fingers as they trailed up her jaw. "As smooth as steel's edge."

Nami snorted again, earning another glare while she pursed her lips to hold in her laughter.

"Shall I stop?" he growled. She shook her head and pressed her lips to his firmly, once more soothing his ire. She truly was skilled in calming him down.

He lost his focus when she parted her lips and boldly deepened the kiss on her own. He groaned low in his throat as she tilted her head and teased her tongue against his. A thrill of pleasure ran down his spine and he dug his hand in her hair as he pressed into her, filling their kisses with his hunger. There was a lingering tang of ale on her tongue that mixed with her sweetness and made him feel drunk on her lust.

Her arms wound around his neck. Her hands slipped into his hair. Her body turned fully into his, bringing her closer as he wrapped her up in his embrace.

She broke the kiss for a quick gasp of air. "Say something else," she said breathlessly before kissing him again.

He groaned at the demand and tried to gather his wits while she overwhelmed him with passion. It was far too difficult to think with her kissing him. He broke from her lips to dart to the side and suckle the spot on her neck he knew would make her moan. He was pleased when she arched into him, her head falling back with a sweet mewl.

"Kid," she urged, reminding him that he had been given a challenge he had yet to overcome. With how pliant she was in his arms, how willing she was to accept his affection and share her own, he would have thought that he had already succeeded, but he knew it wasn't enough.

She tugged sharply at his hair and he cursed at the shock that raced down to his groin. He couldn't conjure a single lucid thought as her nails raked over his scalp, but he grasped for something, _anything_ to give as a compliment.

"Hair as smooth as silk," he rumbled between kisses to her neck.

Nami laughed. "Overused."

Kid growled at her and silenced her amusement as he captured her lips once more. He needed to impress her, but he was losing his senses to his own seduction. He wasn't supposed to be seducing her in the first place. He was supposed to be showering her with gifts and praise and giving her reason to remain with him, to break from her family's rules and stay at his side, hopefully for the rest of his life, if he were fortunate enough. He needed to show her that _this_ was the right path, that she was exactly where she belonged, and that she would find no better life away from his side.

He tried to hold to reason, yet still pushed her down in bed as he devoured her with his kiss. He wanted to give in to their lust, to revel in the rush of feeling that came from her touch. But a voice at the back of his mind tempered him.

 _Do not seduce her. Not yet. Heed control. Pleasure her. Tempt her. Toy with her. Enchant her. Make her desire you. Crave you. Need you. Ache for you. Make her seek you out freely._

He nestled his thigh between her legs and dipped back to her neck. She mewled and arched into him when he drew his tongue over her ear. She clung to him as he kissed and nipped her earlobe, drawing the soft flesh between his lips to suckle until she writhed in his arms and wrapped her leg around his.

He trailed his hand down to her breast and listened to his name fall from her lips with a soft curse as she pressed herself into his touch. He wrapped his hand around the tender mound and flicked his thumb over the bead of her nipple felt through her gown. She gasped in delight, so he teased her nipple again and reveled in the sweet sting of her nails as they dug into his hair and back.

"To touch you," he whispered into her ear, pausing when her fingers tightened their hold and her breath came in a shuddered gasp, "is to strike flint." She whimpered when he flicked his thumb over her again. "To kiss you," he rasped, groaning as she rubbed herself against his thigh, "is to catch the spark."

He wrapped his lips around her pulse and sucked until she spread her legs wider, allowing him to settle between them with a pleasured moan. Her hips rolled into him, bring his hard length flush against her core. He cursed the cloth separating them, but would not risk removing that barrier. He couldn't take her there, not yet.

"Pressed close, you make the flame alight," he panted as he kissed down to her collarbone. He kneaded her breast and rolled into her, making her gasp and throw her head back with a gentle moan. "To hear your pleasure, sets my body ablaze," he continued while sprinkling hungry nips along the collar of her gown. She clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle another moan as he ground into her harder. "I want my fire to grow into yours," he whispered against her breast. She cried out as he drew his teeth over a clothed nipple and bit down. Her legs wound around his waist when he tugged at the sensitive bud. "I want to stoke your flames," he rasped before wrapping his lips around her breast and suckling her, wishing he could taste her flesh and not the coarse wool on his tongue. "Until it turns into an inferno, burning us as one," he whispered breathlessly as he switched to her other breast.

His hand gripped her hip, drew her into a hard thrust of his hips as he sped his movements. Nami cried out as she rolled with him. Sweat beaded on her forehead. He felt a drop trail down his temple. Her cheeks were splashed with red. Her eyelids drooped heavily until they shut and a shudder ran through her body. Kid gasped for breath as he ground faster, unrelenting in his task.

"Together," he gasped through clenched teeth, "Freyja's flame consumes us, overwhelms us."

Nami's body trembled beneath him, awash with pleasure. He ached for his own completion, but he would not find it with her that night. He couldn't, no matter how much he wished otherwise. She was willing, she was seduced, she was drowning in her lust for him. She would allow him in. And drag him to his failure and demise.

"Give yourself to her, Nami," he rasped sharply before latching his lips to the spot beneath her ear that he fast learned she loved. "Let her fill you with the ecstasy of life."

She went stiff in his arms, arched off the bed, while a keening wail leaked from the hand clamped over her mouth. She shuddered and trembled and bucked into him. He dug his teeth into her flesh to restrain the overwhelming urge to succumb to his own release. He would have his chance. He would curse his decision once he was alone in his bed, easing the pain of his desire on his own, but he knew that for now, it was the right decision to make.

Nami went boneless beneath him, gasping for breath. He could feel her heartbeat pounding through the pulse in her neck. His own beat wildly from the effort of his restraint. He shifted to the side to take his weight off her, hissing as he grazed his painfully hard cock against her, and buried his face in her mussed-up hair as he fought his urges. He was seriously reconsidering his decision when Nami's cheek fell against him and she relaxed with a content sigh. She was perfectly happy with what he did to her, she would be even happier if he just took her right now.

 _Not yet,_ that voice whispered within his mind. _Let her choose._

"Satisfied?" he grumbled.

Nami hummed and he grudgingly picked his head up to see her drowsy eyes struggle to stay open. As grouchy as his frustrations left him, he still chuckled at her. He had left her very satisfied. The fact she had allowed him to give her a taste of the ecstasy they could find together, filled him with pride and made him hope that he would succeed in having her every way possible. And soon.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before dragging himself off her. She reached for him as he began to stand, whining "Stay" as she tried to pull him back into her. His laugh came out strained. He wanted to sink into her and remain tangled with her for the rest of the night, but he clung to his resolve and tempered his lust.

"I can't stay," he whispered as he pulled her hands from his tunic. "Not tonight." Nami pouted, drawing another laugh from him as he leaned over to steal a kiss from her lips. "Unless you're ready to throw this courtship deal away and let me fuck you right now."

Nami sobered with the blunt remark, her eyes widening as she let her hands fall away from him. She quickly came down from the high he gave her and he watched her expression turn guarded. When she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from him, he knew there would be no crossing that line tonight.

He retreated before he could throw it all away and force his way back into her bed. He stopped at the curtain between their rooms to glance at her one more time. She grazed her fingers over her lips and wore a bright blush while she squirmed where she lay.

"Good night, Nami," he called to her, breaking her from wandering thoughts.

She looked to him and nibbled her bottom lip. "Good night," she said after a moment. "And…" she began to say as she pushed herself up on an arm. He waited, watching as she gave him a shy smile. "I think it's safe to say you impressed her… _Freyja_."

"Only Freyja?" He forced himself to smirk at her as she blushed. He was aiming to impress Nami more than her family.

"We'll see what your next gift is," was all she said.

She looked impressed enough with the unplanned gift that night, but she wouldn't let a moment of lust sway her decision. It was far too soon. As quick as courtships tended to be, one day was too fast to have a decision made. With all she worried about, he was fortunate to get as far as he had in such a short time.

A spark of inspiration struck him and he realized what he would make for her next.

She likened her abilities to navigating the seas, choosing the best course to see them through the storms. If she was to navigate the fates they were given so that their relationship might prosper, then she would need a blessing of favorable winds, of sunshine as bright as her spirit. A gift of peace and pleasure. And he knew just the god to appeal to for those gifts.

But before he could set to work, he needed rest. And to relieve the pressure weighing heavy in his groin.

He cursed that idiotic voice in his head that stopped him from taking her. He could be as happy and sated as Nami was if he did as he wished. But he feared what might come if he ignored that voice. Because there was one thing he knew for certain…

That voice had not been his own.

* * *

Nami woke that morning in good spirits, even after the dream that came to her in the night.

She hadn't expected to go so far with Kid, but he selflessly restrained himself from going any further. He had knocked her free of all her senses with only a few touches and kisses, she would have eagerly let him have his way with her if he hadn't stopped after the orgasm that left her head in the clouds and her body filled with a sweet thrum of contentment. Once he was gone, and she stopped remembering every touch and kiss and sensation that set her on fire, she went to sleep with a smile.

Her dream didn't dim that happiness, even if it had reminded her of the reason for her caution. The vision that came to her in the storm had returned, the flashes of images as brief as they had been the first time she saw them. The man decorated with gold seemed further away, and Kid seemed closer. The rats in the ship had come ashore and scampered at their feet, distracting her from the ghost of Kid's touch. She looked down at the rats, tried to kick them away, but one clung to her skirts and nipped her ankle. When she looked up again, she found Kid missing, leaving her alone with the ugly rodent gnawing her flesh until she woke to the early dawn light that seeped into her room.

The vision left her as confused as it had when she first had it, but she had no time to meditate on the images. She would think on them that night, return to her rune study after supper, and hopefully find a better answer.

She dressed and tied her hair up before heading out to the main room to help with the morning meal. Gunda was the first to greet her as she began to set out the cooking pots. Killer grunted a good morning as he got the fire going. The rest of the men were dressing or putting their bedding away, a few looked to have already left to see to their chores.

She didn't give it any thought when Gunda studied her for a moment, her brows furrowed as she seemed to search for something. Nami merely began to take the ingredients of their meal from the servants that scuttled into the room, ignoring the older woman's gaze.

"Lady Nami," Gunda gasped before suddenly taking her by the arm and dragging her from the room. "We must fix your hair."

Nami blinked in confusion as she stumbled behind the woman's longer strides. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing," Gunda whispered. "It's lovely, but…" She tugged Nami into her room and spun around to hiss, "He's marked up your neck again."

Nami squeaked and slapped her hand over her neck. She couldn't find it in her to be angry over it this time. She had invited his attention the night before.

Gunda sighed as she bade her to sit down, batting at her hand so she could inspect the markings. "I understand he's officially courting you, but _this_ isn't supposed to be part of the ritual. You should have told him off."

Nami pursed her lips and tried to look ashamed. Gunda sighed again when she noticed the smile Nami struggled to hide.

"For a woman who was so opposed to even entertaining the thought of a relationship, you are perfectly willing to encourage his advances," Gunda lectured as she untied Nami's hair and began to comb it out. "I am surprised how far your change of heart has gone."

"He made a convincing argument for me to give him a chance," Nami huffed. "He's hardened his resolve and I want to hope for the best."

Gunda hummed. "And I wish both of you success, but you still need to draw the line somewhere and prevent him from ruining your reputation." She swept Nami's hair over her shoulder and began the arduous task of braiding her hair in a thick, heavy plait that would hide the marks. "He seems to favor your right side," Gunda muttered.

Nami snorted.

"Did he bite you?" she asked with unmasked shock and indignation, shoving Nami's head roughly to the side as she ran her fingers over a sore spot at the base of Nami's neck. Nami pursed her lips to keep from giggling as Gunda began to rant. "That ill-mannered brute. If he weren't Jarl, I would see him castrated for this. A man is not supposed to let his lust take control, not in a courtship. There are rules and expectations."

She huffed and cursed under her breath as she tugged sharply at Nami's hair, winding it tighter than necessary. Nami hissed and she tempered her anger, softening her touch, and let out a long sigh.

"How long do you believe this will last?" Gunda asked.

"I'm not sure," Nami admitted quietly. "With the life I led in Tingstad, I never imagined something like this happening. I don't know what to expect from him, or from myself. I'm still not certain this is the right way to go."

"Have you had more visions?"

"Last night," Nami said, sighing. "It was the one I had in the storm, though this time the rats were ashore. I still don't understand it. I need time to think on it."

"I'll keep Jarl Eustass away tonight if you wish to practice your runes," Gunda said. "We can talk with Heat, see if he can't distract his friend with some task that will keep him from interfering."

"Thank you." Nami tilted her head back enough to smile. They fell into silence as Gunda continued to plait her hair, folding the long braid up to weave and pin it out of the way while keeping it nestled at the side of her neck. Nami realized that it was _too_ quiet in her room and glanced toward Kid's bedroom. He should still be snoring in there. He never woke before dawn, and never slept without snoring. "Has Kid already woken?"

"He slipped out early. Before dawn," Gunda explained as she made a few adjustments to Nami's braid, fussing with how it laid. "He said he needed to gather some things. He should return for breakfast."

A coil of anticipation and curiosity settled in her gut. He had said that he wanted to make something for her before she encouraged his poetry. Did he still intend to make a gift for her? She had a feeling she would like it far better than the flowers. As beautiful and thoughtful as the simple gift had been, it was too unlike him. Even that gift hadn't been right for him considering he tasked two little girls to gather and deliver them while he napped on the porch. But this next gift he was actually putting his own labor into it and she couldn't wait to see what he had decided on.

With her hair, and reputation, in place, Nami set back to work on the meal. Killer had much of it prepared by the time they returned to the main hall and regarded them with a raised brow as he stirred a pot of oat porridge. She smiled without a care as he inspected her, his gaze settling on her neck. He snorted and turned his attention back to the meal.

"Your hair looks lovely today, Nami," he said with a knowing smirk. Lower, he added, "He will enjoy such easy access to the other side."

She smacked Killer on the back of the head, but he only chuckled.

The morning sped by after the meal. Kid had returned to eat, inhaling his porridge and a slather of cloudberry jam on bread, before vanishing without a word to anyone. He hadn't even bothered to sit down to eat, he was in and out so fast. She chose not to question it, or complain when he didn't even cast a glance her way. His mind was fixed on whatever task he had given himself, and she hoped that she was right about it being a gift for her. She would find out what had him so distracted once he was done.

Once the meal was cleared, Nami went back to work on Sind's new clothes. He had a new shirt and his trousers were nearly done, but she needed to weave more cloth for another set, something more colorful than the drab brown and beige he had been dressed in since England. His green eyes would look stunning against blue, and she intended to make a red and green trim to bring that green out more.

Making clothes for the boy, fixing Ingvild's doll, were bittersweet tasks. She found herself enjoying the projects, seeing the children's faces light up when she finished, and she remembered her days with Bellemere and Nojiko with fondness and a pang of loss.

Bellemere had been the one to teach them how to sew and mend and weave. Her dresses were always in tatters, patched and repaired over years of abuse tending to their farm without help from anyone but the girls once they were old enough. Her nicest dresses were faded, lightly frayed at the hems. She saved new cloth for the girls' clothes, though even Nami was consigned to wearing mended and altered dresses that once belonged to her sister. Their resources were too limited to make new dresses every few months, especially when Nami hit a growth spurt. And Nojiko had once suffered to wear clothes too small until Bellemere made them both dresses that were far too big, hoping they would grow into them and save her the expense of making more.

Nami once fought with her over their bland and haggard clothing. She wanted to wear silk and the finest furs, like the one in the chest that once belonged to her birth mother. She wanted jewels and new beads and brooches. She had been a brat and would forever regret the ungrateful attitude she had shown the woman who sacrificed everything to care for two children that were not her own. The fight had been just before Arlong came, just before the woman who loved them with all her heart was taken from them.

Arlong had spared her the material she needed for better garments. She was able to make her cloak of fine spun wool and silk and her mother's lynx fur. She had beautiful thread to weave her belts and trim and wear dresses with the vibrant colors she loved. She had to make them herself, with some help from Nojiko, and often found herself crying when she realized just how difficult it had been for Bellemere to provide them with what she had. Every year she grew taller, every year her body changed from a child's form to that of a grown woman, and every year she had to remake all her dresses. She appreciated all that Bellemere had taught them and wished she could have thanked her.

Now she would use those skills to provide for those within Kid's hall, especially the child she was still surprised he took in. She would give the boy the clothes she once wished she had, the home she knew Bellemere would have provided if she had the resources. She wouldn't disappoint her mother's memory by doing any less.

As she focused on her work, Gunda sat at a table nearby, spinning new thread. One of Kid's men, Geir, silently sat beside her, his hands held in front of him with freshly woven blue yarn wound around them. Geir was an odd one within Kid's ranks. He resembled Kid a great deal, only he had darker features and was smaller than the jarl. His hair was a rich brown, his eyes jet black, and his skin was an olive color more common in the lands to the south, near the Mediterranean. But he had the same jaw line as Kid, same sharp nose and heavy brow, same scowl, same glare. There was talk that he was related, another bastard gotten by someone in the former jarl's family. Kid wasn't sure if Geir was a cousin or a brother or even a nephew considering the former jarl's eldest son was fourteen years older than him, but he knew well enough that he and the man somehow shared blood and welcomed him into his hall and crew without question.

Geir's mother had been a slave, captured in a raid, and died shortly after giving birth to him. He had grown up as a slave, freed when Kid found him in the corner of the barn with a bloody axe in hand and one of the former jarl's men dead in front of him. He didn't talk, at least she had yet to hear him speak, but he followed orders well and was a strong fighter. He preferred the company of women over men, and Gunda felt safest with him after helping care for him when he was an orphan slave. She told her that he once feared other men as much as she did. Any time there were male guests unfamiliar to him, he hung to the edges of the room, hidden in shadows as he quietly observed the new presence. He had come to trust those that came into Kid's hall, easing his wariness around other people, but he still remained guarded around guests and hovered closest to the women. Gunda said she likened him to a poor, abused dog, mistrusting of any that resembled his abusers, and prone to snapping at any that would do him harm.

He was a shadow of the man Kid had become, but found a safe home within his relative's hall.

Nami couldn't help but giggle at the scowl he wore while Gunda wound more newly spun yarn around his hands. He glared at the yarn roping around over his fingers, but patiently let the woman use him as she needed. He didn't make a single grunt of complaint and continued to hold the strings taught as instructed.

Sind ran into the hall near mid-afternoon. He had vanished shortly after breakfast, leaving her worried that he would get into trouble roaming the village alone. Wire had eased her worries when he came inside for a drink. He had set Magnus, the boy who ruined Ingvild's doll, to work on the pig sty as punishment, and spotted Sind hovering outside the shed Kid used as a workspace for his projects. If he was with Kid, then she knew he would be safe.

She wondered what had brought him back to the hall, and in such a rush. He grinned as soon as he saw her and ran through the clutter of tables in the main room to where she stood at the loom. He bent over gasping for air while she looked at him quizzically. Once he caught his breath, he held something up to her.

Curious, she gently took the small wood figure and held it to the light streaming in from the open door. Her eyes widened at the intricately carved boar that was nearly as large as her hand. Its fur was coarse and bristled, its face set in a stern sneer with its tusks drawn sharply up its snout. The wood was stained a dark brown and flecked with yellow-gold paint over its fur. She turned it over in her hands, admiring the details, from its nose to its tail, and then stopped to inspect a set of runes carved into the chunk of wood the boar stood on.

 _Freyr_.

She smiled as she realized the boar was meant to be an offering, a symbol of Freyr's beloved boar, Gullinbursti. The golden boar that was created by a dwarf Sind's father was named for.

She knew the craftsman without having to ask. Kid's newest ship had shown her his talents at shaping and carving wood, including the intricate designs decorating the wale; she knew he had to be the one who carved the boar for her.

She crouched down in front of Sind to pat him on the head and thank him for delivering the gift. He beamed at her, then pointed toward the front door.

"Jarl is outside," he managed to say. His Norse was improving.

She thanked him again and went to find Kid so she could thank him, too. She stepped over the threshold and peered around the front square, then glanced to her right when she noticed movement on the porch. There she found Kid lounging in a chair, a foot propped up on a stool, while his attention was rapt with another piece of wood he carved at. He didn't appear to have been working on it long, she couldn't even begin to guess what he was attempting to create next. It would be smaller than the boar she held, that was all she could tell looking at the chunk of wood.

So focused on his work, he didn't seem to notice her creep up behind him. His shoulders tensed in surprise when she wound her arms around him, but he relaxed the moment he realized it was her. She caught the corner of a smile as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered and watched his smile grow. He didn't look up from what he carved, didn't even pause in his work, but she knew she had most of his attention. "I'm curious, why the boar?"

He shrugged. "Came to me last night that it would make a good offering to your family. And Freyr's supposed to be a generous god, thought he might be especially happy to receive veneration from a grand-niece."

"That's true," she mused. "Why not craft something for Freyja?"

Kid huffed, finally halting his work to lean his head back and glower at her. "Already thought of that. It's what I'm working on now."

"Did I ruin another surprise?" she asked teasingly.

"Yes," he grunted, but his ire was lacking as she kissed his cheek again. "The boar had to come first. You liken your gifts to navigating a storm, so I had hoped that Freyr would help us fair the storms and bring us good weather again… In a manner of speaking," he added with a grumble.

She swallowed a laugh at the embarrassment he tried to hide with a stony scowl, and slipped around to invite herself onto his lap. He sat back in surprise, but quickly recovered to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her tight against him, a slow grin spreading over his face.

"I love the gift, especially the thought behind it," she said.

He squeezed her. "Good."

"And you've been working on this all day?" she asked. He nodded as she returned to her inspection of the gift. "You work fast. This should have taken a couple of days, at the very least."

He shrugged indifferently. "Already had a piece carved up close to that shape. And once I start working, I don't like to stop until I'm done."

"So, what are you going to make for Freyja?"

Kid scowled at the piece of wood in his hand, holding it up to assess it. "Not as sure about that one. Either a falcon or a cat, depending on what the wood lets me do." He leaned his head back and turned to regard her closely. "I like your hair," he complimented, catching her off guard with the out of place remark.

"Thank you," she said, running her hand over the thick plait. "Gunda did it…" She paused to feign an annoyed glower. "When she noticed the marks you left on me last night."

Kid's grin was as cocky as ever while he pushed aside the braid to take a closer look. "I really favored your right side," he mused.

Nami swatted his hand away. "She noticed," she said flatly.

Chuckling, he leaned in to run his nose up the left side of her neck. A shiver ran down her spine and she stifled a squeak when he stopped to nip her ear. "I'll have to make sure I give your left side attention tonight. Can't be neglecting any part of your body when I pleasure you," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and swallowed a moan when he kissed beneath her ear, gently teasing his lips over sensitive skin. She turned into him as an ache grew in her breasts, making her eager for his touch, and squirmed in his lap when the ache only spread lower. Kid groaned against her ear while he ran a hand over her side, brushing his thumb over the underside of a mound. It was a fleeting touch, but it was enough to rekindle the need he lit in her the night before.

"Kid," she said with a gasp when his thumb next flicked over her nipple. "Not here."

He groaned in disappointed and eased his hand away, but he continued to nibble and lick over her ear. "May I pleasure you in bed again tonight?" he asked, his voice a thick rasp that made her shiver all over.

"We'll see," she forced herself to say while her whole body wanted to scream an emphatic _yes_.

A horn bellowed from the docks, interrupting them. Kid went rigid beneath her and she sat up straight to see what the alarm was for. Another sound of the horn echoed through the village, bringing everyone to a stand-still while Killer sprinted to the hall.

"A ship was spotted in the fjord," Killer informed them as soon as he stood in front of the hall. "Merchant ship as best I can tell from the distance."

Nami grudgingly stood from Kid's lap, the jarl grunting unhappily, even as he helped her stand.

"Could you see the flags? Any heraldry?" Nami asked, trying to bury her unease. Maybe it was a normal trading partner? Maybe it was nothing to be alarmed about at all.

"Blue on white," Killer said. "They were too far to see what insignia might be on them… What I could see, it looked like a rodent." Nami's back went straight, her stomach roiled with fear she fought to keep from her expression while Killer continued. "They aren't Norse, though, I know that much."

"They aren't?" Kid grunted as he stood behind her, a hand on her back as he glanced down, scrutinizing her. She idly realized she was shivering, and no longer from the lust he had moments ago inspired in her. Her whole body felt cold.

Killer shook his head. "Frankish… Norman as best I can see."

"Nami?" Kid prompted, forcing her to look up at him. His scowl deepened, brows furrowed, while she felt the terror in her heart blossom and urge her to flee. "Do you know this ship?" he asked, tone laced with a growl.

She couldn't find her voice, so she gave a stuttered nod.

"Is it an ally of Arlong's?"

She nodded again.

Kid shoved her to the door and began to bark out orders. "Go to your room and stay there. Don't come out until I tell you to. We'll deal with them."

She didn't argue. It wasn't the time to argue. She needed to hide. She needed to run. She needed to get somewhere safe.

She fled to her room, trembling with fear as she clung to the boar Kid had given her. She needed guidance now more than ever. She needed to know which way to go.

Because she knew who the rat was, and that meant the storm was bearing down on them.

* * *

 _Oslo_

As the Danish ship slipped through the water toward one of the open docks jutting out into the bay, he watched as a cadre of armed men marched out to meet them.

The village was large, spread up into the hills surrounding the bay, and bustling with activity. People scampered around markets, selling their wares. Others were in the bay, fishing or washing or playing. Most of them scattered at the sight of the armed men, keeping their heads down and moving from their path as quickly as they could.

He kept his head down, face shadowed by the black hood of his new cloak, and observed as the captain of the ship hailed the militia. He had spent a decent sum replacing the weathered rags of a monk, instead donning more northern attire in the hopes he would blend with the Danes giving him passage to Noreg. The Earl of Hedeby had been kind enough to warn him of the tension in this village. The man who claimed himself king over the region, despite no support from the jarls or earls in the surrounding parts, was unfriendly toward most outsiders, especially Christians. It was fortunate he was not Christian, not truly, but it was wise to keep his appearances as neutral as he could.

He still donned a silver cross on a thick chain around his neck, gilded with fine rubies fit for a king. It was all he had left of his savior. He would not part with it. It had been a struggle in England to keep it hidden from Lord Urouge and his men. A poor, silent monk should not have such a treasure. His billowing robes at least kept it out of sight, but every night, when he desired a few minutes of sleep, his hand itched to clasp the memento and soothe his mind with the familiar ridges and dips of the silver.

He wouldn't have to hide as much of himself here, but he would have to take care not to raise this king's alarm. Thus the northern cloak with its heavy wool trimmed with feathers and fur around his shoulders. His dark blue tunic had bands of yellow and orange woven around the collar and sleeves, while the black leather of his armor vest was pressed with the weaving knotwork of a snake. He had shaved the thick beard he let grow in place while in England, no longer worried about showing his face. The midnight blue hair was trimmed into neat sideburns and a thick tuft of hair at his chin. He left his hair long, but combed and cleaned it as a Norseman would, securing it in a knot at the back of his head.

He would still be questioned. His olive skin and accent would paint him as an outsider, but so long as he shunned any Christian ties, he would likely be permitted, barring he gave good reason for the king to let him remain. If this king was as cruel and merciless as they say, then he had plenty of uses for him.

The captain leaped onto the dock to greet the militia. He wore a slender chain around his neck with Thor's hammer hanging over his breast. Much of Denmark was ceding to the Christians, with kings and jarls converting either for politics or personal reasons, but the tribe that had agreed to take him to Oslofjord still clung to their old gods. Their leader had technically converted for the sake of peace beneath their king, but he and those in his territory still bore Thor's hammer, melding it with the Christian cross when necessary. Here they could wear their symbol without hesitation, knowing that the Norse king would favor their dedication to the old ways.

The men greeted each other with a stoic warmth, clasping hands as if old friends while their expressions remained stern. The leader of the militia spoke with the captain of the ship in hushed tones. All the while he watched as they gestured to the cargo and crew, and then they were given the signal to unload the silks and spices and other finery gathered from their trade further south. He stood when the men set to work, slipped between the crew, and made his way to the dock just as the captain waved him over.

"This is the one," he said to the leader. "He's no longer welcome in Denmark."

The man eyeing him closely was tall and slender, built with lean muscle. His posture was rigid and unforgiving, his tan face stiff and unreadable. A small scar ran down his left cheek. To another man, he might have a fearsome visage, but to himself… he didn't much care.

"What crime did he commit?" he asked the captain.

"I'd leave that for myself to tell," he interrupted. "And I will tell your king."

The militia-man turned to face him fully, squaring his shoulders in some attempt to intimidate. His hands clasped behind his back, his head held high, he peered down his nose at him. "Our king does not speak to outlaws, nor does he welcome them without due process. I am McKinley, the leader of his peace keeping forces. It is my duty to assess newcomers. If you pass my judgement, then perhaps I will allow you to see him."

Annoyance burned in him, but he didn't show it as he pushed back the hood of his cloak to let the man see his crooked smirk. He made a move to brush his cloak from his arm, revealing the long, slender sword tied to his left hip. "If need be, I will seek out your king myself, if only so I might deliver him the hearts of his pathetic soldiers," he said, lowering his voice as he spat his insults. "I have no interest in conversing with weaklings."

McKinley's stoic expression broke with a growl, his hand went to his sword.

"I'll speak with him," a voice called out, putting a stop to the fight before it could begin. The militia parted, allowing him to peer down the docks to the man standing heads above the rest. He had appeared so suddenly, none had taken notice until he spoke, and at the sound of his voice, all business in the village came to a halt. People dropped to their knees, their heads bent down as the king walked through them. By his posture and bored expression, he didn't seem to take notice of his people at all. They were that far beneath him.

The forces on the dock with him straightened and fell in line, like good little soldiers, unquestioning of their leader.

He strode forward over the dock, unbothered by McKinley's growl as he passed him by, and came to stop a few paces in front of the king. With a mocking smile, he put his hand to his heart and bowed his head in feigned politeness. "King Enel," he greeted without masking the sarcasm in his tone, "it's an honor to be in your presence."

Enel peered at him with a bored gaze as he straightened. He had met Danish and Norse kings in the past, and while most appreciated the finery they received in their expeditions and raids, Enel took that appreciation to another level entirely. He was clad in a light blue tunic made of soft linen and lined with strips of golden silk. A dark blue, woven leather belt hung loose around his waist, decorated with golden rings that clinked together as he moved. His wool trousers were colored a vibrant yellow that rivaled the gold he wore, with strips of dark blue wool that wrapped around his calves. A white knit cap sat on his head, trimmed with shimmering gold thread, only allowing a few tufts of coarse blond hair to peek out around his ears and the back of his head.

His first impression of this king was that he loved gold. From his clothes to the rings on his arms and those hanging low from his ears, he bore gold wherever he could. Even the spear he carried looked to be painted in gold, glimmering so perfectly he wondered if it was made of the precious metal.

"Come," Enel ordered as he turned for the large hall looming further to the north.

The command rankled him, but he bit back a snide retort and followed the king. His militia trailed behind them, their steps perfectly synchronized until Enel came to an abrupt halt and tilted his head back. A pained shout echoed behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see McKinley snatching a man from the ground.

"You dare insult the king?" McKinley shouted, before turning to bow to Enel. "Please carry on. You need not waste your time with this cretin, my lord."

Enel nodded and continued toward the hall. He hung back a moment, glancing between Enel and the man McKinley and his men were dragging away to be shackled in the square. He had heard no insult, at least none from the people they passed by. He had shown the king more insult in his greeting than these people had shown, with their heads lowered and frames quivering.

"Come," Enel shouted, breaking him from his musings.

His time in Noreg would be interesting, that much he knew for certain. He sauntered up the hill to catch the king up and fell in step just behind him.

The king's hall was a truly grand estate, overshadowing all the magnificent halls he had seen in the north. It was a fortress, it's wooden gates towering over the village and cutting his hall off from the masses. It was strange to find such a structure there. Ring fortresses weren't entirely uncommon, especially in villages set along trade routes, but the Norse were typically more hospitable to their own people and opened their halls to invite others in for a meeting or meal. This king appeared not to want anyone in his hall and even kept archers posted on turrets to watch over the entrance.

Servants and soldiers milled in the courtyard before the main hall. Men tended to goats and horses and sheep, women knelt in gardens, all covered in dirt and looking miserable. They stopped to greet their lord, only to be ignored as he led the way into the hall.

The hall was as gilded as the king and for a moment he stopped at the porch to stare at the building in awe. Like any Norse hall, its wood was intricately carved, even the crossed beams at the roof. But with this hall, the carvings weren't left plain, they were painted in rich yellows and oranges and blues, the frame of the door lined with genuine gold. The porch was kept in good repair, its planks sleek and finished, decorated with furs between the odd chair or table.

Within the main feasting hall, the ceiling was lofted, walkways built above the main level where more guards stood watch. The support beams were decorated with swaths of rich silk and linen and strings of golden beads. Sconces hung down all around, brightening the room and making the gold within glow, giving it more warmth and light than the crackling fire at the center hearth.

Other than the few guards standing in the loft space above, there were only four others within the room, seated at tables beneath the great dais and throne built to one side. Enel greeted them, unlike all the others he passed. He noticed they were dressed in finer clothes, themselves, though not nearly as rich as their king. They each wore a gilded charm on a string around their necks – Thor's hammer on proud display on all the king's men.

Though, to his bemusement, a tall silver cross stood behind the large throne. For a king who loathed Christians so much, it was strange and amusing to see that symbol remain.

Enel shed whatever noble visage he gave off as soon as he reached his cushioned throne. He collapsed on the seat lazily, stretching out to rest his crossed feet on one arm while propping himself up on the other. A woman hurried over, clad in a plain wool dress, and offered the king a cup of drink. Enel smiled, a gesture of gratitude he didn't expect from the arrogant man, and took a sip before taking the next thing the woman offered – a little yellow-orange cloudberry that he ate straight from her hand.

"I have been expecting you," Enel said as he chewed.

"You have?" he asked as he helped himself to a chair before the throne. He was offered no food or drink, but he could see that this king was not prone to following the same rules of hospitality others would. Or perhaps he would, but not until he had decided whether he would kill his guest or not.

"I have been plagued with visions of a storm," Enel said. "I foresaw you as the harbinger of a great trial, one set before me by the gods to prove to them that I am truly greater than they."

He raised his brow at that. He was far too familiar with men that viewed themselves greater than any god. He should do very well within this village.

"Does that mean I have your welcome?" he asked.

"No," Enel said frankly. "Not yet, at least. What crime did you commit to be exiled from Denmark?"

"I was minding my own business, enjoying a cup of ale in the middle of my journey, when a drunken slob decided my boots would be his privy. I took offense, naturally, and so took his hands, and then his head. Apparently, his kin were not pleased to have him delivered with his head between his legs and his hands sewn to the stump of his neck. I suspect the rude gesture I fixed them in only made their ire worse," he explained with a twisted grin.

Enel snorted into his cup. "You are severely lacking in manners."

"So I've been told, but you are not one to talk," he said, gesturing around him. "I am a guest in your hall, yet I have nothing to drink."

"You are not a guest in my hall, yet. Nor will you be given a drink until I deem your worth in this place," Enel said flatly. "You are not a Dane, though you have borrowed some garb. Where do you hail from? What is your name?"

He smiled wryly at the questions. "I am afraid I cannot give you my name. I have made many enemies in many lands, and it would not be wise of me to give that name freely." Enel's brow rose, but he continued before he could question him more. "As for my homelands, I am Andalusian on my father's side, and Norman-Italian on my mother's."

"A Moor?" Enel asked, his gaze sweeping over him then. "Or a Christian?" he asked, pointedly narrowing his gaze on the cross hanging from his neck.

"I would not say that I am either one, at least no longer. My family was slain by Christians, claimed to be heretics, and I found no welcome from my father's people in Al-Andalus. This –" He lifted the cross from his cloak to let Enel appraise it better. "- is all that remains of the first man to show me kindness after the loss of my family. I keep this trinket in remembrance of my own savior, a mortal man, not an imaginary crucified deity whose followers have only ever shunned me as a monster." He gestured to the cross behind Enel's throne. "I am not the only one holding on to a Christian symbol, despite my anger toward their people."

Enel glanced up at the cross towering above him and smiled. "Mine is a reminder that their god could never supplant me. I sit upon his throne after killing his weak king." He set his gaze back on him, lips curving in a dark smile. "I may claim title of king, but I am a god. It is my destiny to rule over all of mankind."

"And I do hope to bear witness to this great destiny unfold," he said with a mocking lilt Enel waved off.

"Tell me, harbinger, what might I gain should I offer you a safe haven in my lands?" Enel asked.

He bowed his head. "I only desire to live peacefully. I will bring you no trouble, and I will offer my own wisdom and skill to your kingdom however you desire to use it."

"What wisdom would that be?"

"My parents were great healers. My father, a doctor familiar with anatomy and surgery, taught by the Muslim scholars of his homeland. My mother was a healer known within her church, gifted with a knowledge of herbs and remedies. I have continued their practice and expanded my own study to surpass theirs. And, if you have no need for a doctor, then the abilities that led to my exile should prove useful for you," he reasoned. "You have people here who dislike you, at the very minimum. You have men who exact your punishments, yet your enemies persist. I can help you with them. Help question them, learn what nefarious schemes they seek to hide from your sight."

"I already know of them. They do not bother me," Enel said lowly.

"But what of this storm you have foreseen? I am the harbinger of this. Should you not be wary that sending me away would bring you a great calamity?" he argued.

Enel stood abruptly and slowly descended to the main floor. "I would not send you away. I would _kill_ you. Only a fool exiles his enemies."

He wasn't intimidated by the threat, merely grinned up at the king. "I can promise you that I am _not_ your enemy. I am here to be your ally, to aid you in achieving this great destiny you have foreseen."

"You are a trickster," Enel said bluntly. "Clad in false politeness and unveiled mockery."

"I have been called a trickster many times, but does your family not claim lineage from Thor? Does Thor not wield such great, awe-inspiring power as to even hold sway over the trickster, Loki?" He stood so that Enel could not tower over him any longer. The words he spoke came bidden from a place in his mind that he could not say was his own, a voice whispering in his ear what reasons this king would prefer to hear. "Was it not Loki who secured Thor with his mighty hammer? Who even helped him reclaim Mjolnir from the giant who dared to take it?"

Enel's expression turned thoughtful, his gaze distant. He stood in silence for endlessly long minutes, his mind off somewhere else. He waited patiently for Enel's thoughts to return to him. When he snapped from whatever haze stole his mind away, he laughed.

"I have my answer," Enel said cheerfully while turning back to his dais. "You are correct. Thor would not have his power without Loki's aid, though Loki would not have brokered for that hammer if he had not thought to shave the beloved Sif's head. He only got the hammer out of fear for Thor's wrath. And so, you will aid me as I see fit, for fear of my own wrath." Enel collapsed onto his throne and grinned down at him. "But tell me, if you cannot share your name with me, what shall I call you instead?"

He smiled a thin smile as Enel waved for his servant girl to fetch him a drink. "Corazon," he said, ignoring the knot that formed in his heart and swallowing the lump of regret in his throat. "You may call me Corazon."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I have mixed feelings forcing Kid into a courtship, but social mores of the time kind of dictate it. His attempt at poetry is due to the importance of the practice in Norse society, though, yes, love poems were heavily frowned upon, even outlawed in some instances, especially when the couple was not married. But a man with a gift for poetry and story-telling is highly respected. There's even a tale of a man who composed a love poem about a queen, which naturally pissed off the king, but when he went before the king and was asked to recite this poem (and likely lose his head for it), he instead gave a moving poem praising the king's exploits and won the king's favor, so he was forgiven for the slight. Others would not be lucky, especially if they did what Kid did in the middle of a courtship. If she had male family members, or took exception to his interest, he'd be dead. But, as I said in the fic, Odin is a god of poetry, and Freyja loves mansongr - like, easiest way to curry her favor is to write her love poetry/songs. And I do still insist that Kid is talented with words, when he wants to be. Granted the songs he would compose would have lyrics more like 'Shaman's Harvest' when it came to love songs, but he'd still be talented at it._

 _There is a really fun tale behind the creation of Gullinbursti and Thor's hammer (among other treasures) and Loki is, naturally, involved, but it is a longer tale and I don't want to bog these notes down with another myth. Just know that Eitri (or Sindri) was the dwarf that made Gullinbursti, Mjolnir, and Odin's golden ring - Draupnir. It was in a competition Loki had created to get out of trouble for shaving Sif's head, and if Eitri won, he would lose his own head. Loki had turned himself into a fly to distract Eitri's brother at the bellows, thus 'ruining' Mjolnir by making it with too short a handle._

 _And, obviously, yes, mystery monk is Law. There. Now you know. Even though he's still not going by his name. The dork is actually really excited about this role in my head, he keeps inspiring me to come up with more things for him to do. And thus make this arc become that much more graphically violent. Seriously, this guy is ready to play his part in this arc._

 _And yes, his heritage in this fic is mixed. I picked Andalusian for his father because Cape Trafalgar is in that region, also because it gives him the Muslim background I wanted him to have for his medical experience and teachings. His mother is Norman-Italian because the village Flevance seems to be based on is in Italy (Casale Monferrato), also it connects Law to a very Christian/Catholic region. I will slowly elaborate on him and his history in this arc, so look forward to that._

 _I will make a lot of references to Loki with Law, obviously. Flies were one, but the feathers on his cloak are another. Obviously Law has his feathered sweater in canon, and I was drawing on that imagery in part, but it also ties to Freyja's feathered cloak, which she has lent to Loki on a few occasions (either to get out of trouble, or to help fix the trouble that he for once did not create). Loki is very central to this plot, but keep in mind that he is not necessarily 'evil'. In fact, he tends to do more to benefit the gods than trouble them in the stories (even if the benefits are to get himself out of trouble). The story behind Sif's hair - he only needed to replace her hair, but he goes above and beyond and gets dwarves to craft gifts for Freyr and Odin and an extra one for Thor. Some pagans would even say that Odin is less trustworthy than Loki because he can turn on you when you least expect it in order to bring another great warrior into his hall. Also he has been known to use Loki for the sole purpose of weasling out of his own deals. Loki doesn't become a true evil until he kills Baldr and the events of Ragnarok ensue._

 _Lastly - for those that don't follow my tumblr and miss my announcements: I will be going to England to visit eileithyia-ya (if you follow LawNa fics, you should know her) come mid-May. I'll be gone for two weeks and it's set up to be a very busy trip (we're even making a pop over to Oslo for me, yay~), so I have no plans to write while I'm away. And since this is my first trip out of the country, I will probably be returning home very exhausted and barely conscious, so I don't plan to write again until I've recovered. My hope is that I'll be getting back into my routine after a week or two, but I wouldn't expect any updates from me until mid- to late-June, July at the latest. Who knows, I might return full of fresh inspiration, at least for this fic, considering so many of the places we're visiting have a connection to the Vikings (mostly York and Oslo), and just barely scrape together the energy to write once I've gotten over the jet lag. In the meantime, I'm going to try to get one or two more chapters updated on this fic before I leave (that should have me through the fluffy parts of this arc and leading into the big drama). But we will see what I manage to accomplish in the next month._


	23. Chapter 23

_Warning: Explicit sexual content, mentions of violence/ gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The Second Choice_

Kid's temper was on razor's edge as he stood on his dock, arms folded over his chest as he glared at the Frankish ship creeping toward his village. He had been in such a great mood, too. His woman was happy, lavishing him with affection and encouraging his own as she sat on his lap. All was right in the world so long as she kept smiling and laughing and praising him for the gifts he gave her. But a single ship was all it took to take that away and skew the world back to the dark place he knew all too well.

Seeing the look of abject terror in Nami's eyes set his anger to a boil in his gut. She tried to hide it behind an icy visage, but the hand he pressed to her back felt the tremors quaking through her frame, and her stark white pallor gave her fragile emotional state away. In that moment, she had been frozen with fear. It had taken a hard shove to get her to snap from her stupor and flee into the safety of his hall. As he watched her run toward her room, head bowed and trembling hands clinging to the boar he made her, he knew that fear wouldn't still her for long.

She was going to run, just as she tried to do her first night in his hall. No matter how much he swore she was not a coward, he knew her well enough by then to know that her first instinct in the face of a great danger was to run. He was sure that she feared her giant's wrath coming down on the village more than she feared her own capture. Even if her own freedom was at the forefront of her mind, she was far too caring to ignore the potential suffering her existence there could cause others. She would run hoping to spare them all. She would rather face a harsh reality alone than see anyone else die because of her.

She was stronger than she knew, albeit too stubborn to realize it wouldn't hurt to rely on him when fighting alone wasn't enough.

Once Nami was safe in her room – for as long as she remained there – he began hollering out orders to his men. They had been prepared for this day when he first decided to give Nami asylum, but he reminded them of their duties, regardless. Gunda would keep an eye on Nami's room while playing her role as servant, hopefully easing her lady's anxiety and keep her safely tucked away. Knowing that Nami would inevitably slip away, he tasked a handful of his men to roam the village and the perimeter of his hall to keep an eye on her movements. The men he sent out to do sweeps of the village were also ordered to remind the villagers that Nami did not exist. Under no circumstances were they to utter her name or speak of the woman with amber hair that came to them only months before.

He had passed around an epithet of a sort that he felt appropriate for the woman, no matter how much Nami despised it. _Ketta_ , the name a great she-cat, a giantess in her own right and fearsome mother of a monster. While she liked his endearment of _Kitten_ , she was entirely unamused with the name his men and the villagers were to use in the company of strangers. She wasn't a monster, she wasn't a giant, but he reminded her that she was as fierce as one when she was angry, something she only proved when she kicked him out of his chair and stormed off in a huff to rant and rave about him to whoever would listen, as she was wont to do. Despite her hatred of the name, it was the one he settled on and his word was law, so his people would refer to her as _Ketta_ when the situation required it.

Not only had she been given a different name, but he had seen fit to giving her family within the village. Hróarr would play the part of loving, protective father to the wild cat residing in their village. No one would scrutinize the identity of an unseen woman if they believed her to be a resident's daughter. They were looking for a woman without family, without connection, new to the region and speaking a svear dialect. As long as they didn't lay eyes on her or hear her speak, they would surely dismiss her and scurry on their way to the next village.

He had originally thought to kill them all and be done with it, but Killer had talked some sense into him. It would be wiser to play innocent. If they killed this envoy, it would not end anything. There would be another envoy, and another, all asking questions before he tossed them in another unmarked burial mound. Eventually Arlong would catch on when none of his people returned and follow the trail until it ended in Drafn. He didn't care about going to war and killing the slew of giants that came for Nami, it was what he had sworn to do, but he wanted a chance to survive and he wanted to enjoy whatever time he had with Nami before fate caught up with them. If this battle was to shape a new future, then he needed to approach it with care, to plan for a war that could be his last, all to ensure that if he died, he took her fears with him.

Kid chained up his ire as he watched the men on the ship hail him before tossing rope to Wire so he could secure them. The ship appeared to be a trading vessel, a merchant ship of the design the Normans used, passed down from their Norse ancestors that were given the lands and title they held in Francia. It resembled their ships, though lacked the vicious serpent's head the Norse favored for the prow of the ship, its decoration and detailing taken from Christian and Frankish tradition, rather than their ancestry. It was crewed by Franks and Normans, the latter he recognized by the furs that trimmed their collars and the taller heights they reached compared to their Frankish counterparts. His gaze flit over every face, memorizing them, sizing them up for a kill should he need to. He narrowed his eyes on a smug face with twitchy whiskers that made his anger claw at his chest, begging to be released just long enough to smash the man's face in. He sat in a chair with a canopy of silk above his head, as if he were some rich prince. His haughty expression only added to the appearance.

Kid changed his mind about punching the man as he assessed him. No, a punch was too quick and easy. He wanted to chain him to that chair and light his damn boat on fire, then stand back and revel in his pained screams as he died a slow, agonizing death. It was so tempting, he couldn't restrain his grin as he considered it. Killer smacked him upside the head as soon as he noticed the murderous look he wore, snapping him back to reality.

"Hello," the Frankish man greeted as he picked his way through his men to climb onto the dock. "I apologize for the intrusion."

His Norse was rough, but understandable, highlighted by a Frankish accent. The snide, sarcastic lilt in his tone made Kid scowl as he balled his hands into fists and straightened his back to his full height. The Frank was shorter than him, slender and scrawny compared to Kid's men, as well as his own. He could break the bastard in half as effortlessly as he snapped a twig.

"What brings a Frankish ship to my territory?" Kid asked with a low growl seeping into his voice. He refused to be welcoming to a man who struck his woman with terror unlike any he had seen before, even her visions rarely left her looking so fearful.

The man before him balked at the cold greeting, but forced a nervous smile as he came to stand before him. "I am Nezumi," he introduced, holding a hand out to shake as though they were old friends. Kid glared at the extended hand until he slowly retracted it with a snickering, wary laugh. "I'm a merchant on my way to Oslofjord, but we ran into a rough patch in the straits. We struck a shallow rocky reef and began to take on water."

Kid glanced behind him to the ship that he claimed to be damaged, yet still it sailed through the Skagerrak and the fjord leading to Drafn. He could have easily made it further into Oslofjord if his ship wasn't too damaged to trek up his fjord. Then again, a Frankish ship heading to Oslofjord was inviting trouble. He would want to see that any damages were repaired before facing the man residing there, just in case he had to make a swift retreat.

"Why Oslofjord?" he asked, setting his gaze back on Nezumi. "I don't know how much you Franks have heard, but the bastard calling himself king there ain't very nice to your like. You're courting suicide if you think to trade with him."

Nezumi let out an irritating titter of laughter that gave away his nervousness. "Yes, I'm well aware, but I must meet with the king, no matter the risks. It is a vital, urgent errand I've been sent on."

Kid's brow rose, but he forced himself to relax. This man was not here to search for Nami. He could assume that Nezumi was going to the bastard king in Oslofjord for purposes related to her, but so long as this errand took him in a direction away from their village, he wouldn't interfere. Suspicions still nagged him over his story, but he would remain patient until the Franks left.

"Then we better see to your ship fast so you can be on your way," Kid said, turning to lead the way to his hall. He would play host to this man, ply him for information, and then kick his ass back out to sea and far away from Nami. "I'll spare a few of my men to help with your repairs. I don't have much space to house you all, but I can make room for you in the barn for the night. You'll need the rest if you face that king."

"I appreciate the hospitality…" Nezumi trailed off his sneering tone expectantly.

"Jarl Eustass," Kid grunted in answer to his unspoken question, refusing to let the shitty tone irk him too much.

Upon entering the hall, Sind tackled Kid's leg, clinging to him as he stared warily at the newcomers. He didn't miss the glare the boy sent Nezumi. He must have seen Nami's fearful reaction and wisely associated her behavior with their unexpected guests. Kid dragged the boy with him toward his chair while Killer offered Nezumi and his men seats at one of the tables, urging them to rest while one of the servants fetched ale and a meager meal for them.

"Your boy?" Nezumi asked as Kid shoved Sind from his leg so he could sit.

"No," he answered gruffly while turning to Sind who remained beside him, clinging to the arm of his chair. He had a habit of following him around like a lost pup unless Nami had need of him or he made Killer take him. Normally the habit was amusing, though easily ignored when he didn't want the boy nipping at his heels around the village. With the guests in their hall, though, the habit could prove dangerous considering his wavering ability to understand the language. He forced Sind to let go of his chair and pushed him toward the bedrooms. "Go see to Ketta," he ordered in English, something not lost on Nezumi as he watch Kid lightly smack the boy on the side of the head when he didn't immediately obey.

"A Saxon," Nezumi said once Sind ran off to the back, sparing one last glare over his shoulder to the threat allowed within the safety of their hall. He was at least smart enough to recognize these men for what they were. "I've never seen a slave child so attached to a master."

"He's not a slave," Kid said, tone low with a warning. He would not have that boy mistreated, least of all by the scum in front of him. "We just returned from England a few days ago. He was an orphan in the care of the church. The boy's father was a Northman, and his mother had died in childbirth. He asked to return with us and I agreed to take him in."

"Such a noble gesture, adopting a child from another land," Nezumi remarked with that tittering laugh.

Killer handed him a cup of ale, giving his fist something to hold and hopefully distract him from the growing need to slam his fist into this man's buck teeth. The bastard seemed to be mocking him with his very existence, and he didn't like the gleam in his beady little eyes. He was not a man to be trusted in anything.

"Speaking of adopted," Nezumi said suddenly, sitting straight on his bench. "I suppose while I'm here it wouldn't hurt to ask you a few things."

Kid's brow rose as he lounged back in his chair. He forced his posture to remain relaxed and casual, fighting the instinct to sit rigid and ready to kill every outsider within his hall. A stiff posture would only give away that he had something to hide.

"What?" he grunted, urging the man to get his questions out.

"The reason I'm going to Oslofjord is for a woman taken in as a ward to a jarl in Svealand," Nezumi explained. "They had a… _disagreement_ and the young woman took off in the night."

Kid hid a snort of laughter in his cup, swallowing down ale that tasted bitter on his tongue at the vague reason for Nami's escape. _Disagreement, my ass_ , he thought to himself. "And? What does this woman have to do with you? Or the king in Oslofjord, for that matter?"

Nezumi's smile was thin and strained. "I am doing a favor for an old friend. He wishes to remain in Tingstad in the hopes she returns on her own, but with every passing week, he has begun to fear the worst. He is certain she didn't drown in the straits, despite my insistence that she likely did. He has it in his mind that she fled north, possibly to this king. I have agreed to visit him as an envoy to see if she is there, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask if you've seen this woman in the region? She might have passed this way on her journey northward."

"What does she look like?" Kid forced himself to ask, biting back a low growl as irritation coiled in him.

"She's a woman of eighteen years… nineteen shortly after midsummer, with amber hair as vibrant as the stone itself," Nezumi describe. "She might have been wearing a cloak trimmed with lynx fur."

Kid scratched his chin, grumbling to himself as though mulling over the description. "I saw a woman with amber hair, but it was a few days south," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She was injured, sick with a fever, and half-starved. My cousin and I offered her shelter here after tending to her wound, but she refused, insisted that she could make her own way."

Nezumi snorted. "That sounds very much like the woman I'm searching for. Did she say which way she was going?"

"Just as your friend suggested – north. But, she never said Oslofjord and vanished before we could offer passage to her." Kid let a growl seep out. "The ungrateful witch stole from my pack before she left, too. I asked the gods to push the bitch off a cliff for me, but if she's gone to the king in Oslofjord, she's likely facing a far worse existence than any punishment they or I could dole out," he spat out, clinging to the contempt he felt for the man before him to convey the anger he needed to.

Nezumi hummed. "It is unfortunate you weren't able to secure her here." He looked around the hall, grimacing with obvious disgust at his surroundings. "Jarl Arlong has spared some of his treasure for me to offer as a reward to whoever has his ward. You could have made yourself rich ransoming her."

Kid's eyes narrowed on Nezumi. "I am rich."

The Frank tittered with laughter. "If you say so."

His fingers dug into the arm of his chair until a solid hand clasped onto his shoulder to soothe his sparked temper. He forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath, and relaxed in his chair once more. Movement in the shadows toward the back hall leading to the bedrooms signaled that Geir was there, watching them as he always did when strangers entered his hall. His face was a stony mask, his hand set at the grip of his sword, ready for bloodshed. Kid subtly waved for him to stand down.

The king Nezumi meant to visit would see that his demise was brutal enough. Let Enel deal with the rat problem and dump the bodies with Arlong for him. It would delay his own war and possibly thin the giant's army. They had a better chance at victory if Arlong's forces were stretched thin.

"What's so important about this woman that this Jarl… Arlong?" He feigned ignorance before waving off the name as unimportant. "Why's he willing to pay so much for her return?"

Nezumi cleared his throat and Kid knew whatever he had to spew would be nothing more than lies. "She's a most beloved ward. Her mother died when she was a child. He's been caring for her since."

He carefully swallowed his anger at the way Nezumi worded his response. So it wasn't all lies, there was a shred of truth there. If Kid didn't know the real story, he wouldn't have questioned Nezumi's. "Yet she ran away."

"A bout of melodrama," Nezumi excused. "She's still young, filled with fiery emotion and unnecessary offense. It was a misunderstanding, nothing she should have gotten so upset over. But I'm sure you know how women can be."

Kid decided that shattering the bastard's teeth wasn't good enough, nor was burning him alive on his ship. He truly hoped Enel tortured him before killing him. If he didn't, then Kid would take him captive and make him scream for insulting Nami's struggles. Killer's hand tightened on his shoulder, reminding him that he needed to remain calm. He gave Nezumi another grunt, a short nod of understanding.

"And why do you care what happens to this girl? She important to you?" Kid asked.

Nezumi snickered. "Not really, but her importance to Arlong makes her important to me. She has family in Francia that might prove to be of benefit to me, but that is something we must wait to see."

Kid wondered if he would ever find out just how Arlong intended to use Nami against her father's family. He had some suspicions, but he would rather not think on them. They sparked anger and possessiveness that he could do nothing about, not until he learned the truth of Arlong's interest in the woman.

"If I come across her again, I'll do my best to hold her here," Kid said with a forced smile. "Just tell me where to send word of her, and I'll see that this Arlong has his ward back in his hall. Barring he's still willing to pay a ransom for her. If not, I might just keep her to dole out the punishment she deserves for her thievery."

"So long as she is returned alive and whole, in _every way_ , then I'm sure Arlong will overlook a few scratches and bruises," Nezumi said. The snide apathy he had for Nami made Kid's teeth itch. He managed to hold his anger in, save for the tight clenching of his jaw. "Send word to Tingstad, on the southwest coast in Götaland, just at the entrance to the Kattegat."

Kid decided he had learned enough. If he asked any more questions about Nami, he was liable to give in to his rage and murder each and every one of Nezumi's men. He needed to keep them moving in the wrong direction, make them think he had nothing to hide. His anger on her behalf would only serve to give them away.

He sank back in his chair and guzzled the last of his ale, waving for his servants and men to take care of their guests. He would entertain them for the night, help repair their ship, assuming it was damaged at all, and then bid them good riddance. Nami might have to hide in her room for a day or two, or perhaps he would be better served hiding her at Heat's. His healer could keep an eye on her and prevent her from running. He would discuss that with her later, once he sent the Frankish men to bed down in the barn.

That is if she stayed put like he told her to.

With every hour that passed without any sign that Nami fled, Kid let himself relax in his chair and enjoy the songs Halle performed for the Franks. He did his best to ignore Nezumi's existence, talking as sparingly as he could to the man while Killer stayed at his side to hold him back should his temper take hold of his reason. He glanced out the front door to see that the hour was growing late, though the sun would not fully set for hours more. The approaching summer season meant they had a lengthy twilight where the sky remained lit while the sun hid just over the horizon.

He saw Gunda slip into the room to gather supper for Nami. His brows furrowed when he noticed Sind sneaking in behind her, but brushed off his suspicions when he merely helped the woman carry an extra cup of ale while Geir did his best to hide their presence from the guests. If Nezumi noticed them creeping around, he would likely question who the meal was for. When the pair vanished back into the bedroom without rousing suspicions, Kid eased into his chair once more, brushing off his worries.

But it was only a minute later that Sind came running back out, weaving through the tables until he reached Kid. A knot formed in his gut as Sind tugged at his sleeve with a panicked look on his face.

"What?" he grunted.

"Ke- Ketta gone," he whispered.

Kid's gaze snapped up to see Gunda hovering near the back wearing an apologetic grimace. "Shit," he hissed. He stood from his chair and shoved the boy toward Gunda. "Stay with her," he ordered sharply. He wasn't angry with them, though he was annoyed that they had dropped their guard so easily. But he had been lowering his own guard, so he couldn't hold that against them, either. And Nami was a cunning woman. She could slip from anyone's guard unless they chained her up, something he sorely wished he had done.

"Ketta?" Nezumi asked, just as Kid turned for the door to hunt her down himself. "Are you keeping someone important hidden here?"

Kid sneered at the gleam in Nezumi's eyes, as though he had just caught them harboring the very woman they searched for. They had, but Kid wasn't about to let him know that.

He surreptitiously glanced around his hall, glad that Hróarr wasn't there. That would work to his advantage. When he decided that it was safe, he approached Nezumi and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "One of my men's daughter. I sent him on a lengthy errand so that I could enjoy her company without him breathing down my neck or taking his axe to my skull." He pulled back to let Nezumi see his lecherous grin and wink. "If I've been anything less than warm to you, it's because you interrupted my time with her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to find her and steal some affection before her father returns."

Nezumi chuckled. "Ah, I suppose that would irritate any man." He waved for Kid to leave. "Please, enjoy your evening. I'm sure your household can see to my accommodations for you."

Kid's grin widened with relief before he spun on his heel to stalk out of the hall. His grin fell into a scowl once he thought the Franks couldn't see it, just as he met Killer at the door to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Drawing him in close, he hissed, "Watch them," in his cousin's ear and then shoved him away to hunt Nami down.

He hoped that he hadn't wasted too much time. Every second counted with that woman when she was running scared.

"Jarl Kid," Wire called to him as Kid headed toward the rear of his hall, hoping to track her from the escape hatch in her room. He spun to growl at Wire. He didn't have time for whatever Wire had to say, but then he saw him point toward the stables. "The cat's spooking the horses," he said cryptically, taking care not to alert the two Norman soldiers walking back to the hall from the docks with him.

That was a lucky break. She must have hoped to wait for he and his men to scatter in search of her, leaving the stable free to steal a horse and put even more distance between her and Drafn.

He nodded his thanks to Wire and sprinted toward the stables. He spotted her trying to saddle a horse while remaining hidden behind the wall of the mare's stall. She was bundled up in her cloak, as well as another dark brown cloak with a deep hood that hid her face in shadow. He tried to sneak up on her, but his steps ground over the straw noisily and alerted Nami to his presence.

She jumped at the sound. She nearly shrieked in alarm when she saw him, but he shot forward to clamp his hand over her mouth, leveling her with a stern glare.

"Woman," he hissed, "I told you to stay in your room."

Her eyes narrowed on him and her throat rumbled with a growl as she clawed at his hand. He released her mouth, but stepped closer, blocking her in against a support post and hiding her from anyone nearby with his larger frame.

"I can't stay here," she whispered harshly. "If he's sent Nezumi to search for me, then it's only a matter of time before he finds me."

"He's going to Oslofjord to search for you. He's only here to repair his ship," he ground out. "I already told him that I saw you to the south months ago, that you were sick with a fever and injured, but refused my help. I made sure to tell him that you mentioned something about going north before you ran off on your own."

"If he goes to Oslo and sees I'm not there, he'll only return to question you further," she insisted. "Oslo isn't far, and you've already stated that you've seen me. He'll come back and try to interrogate you into giving him more information."

"I doubt he'll be able to escape the king there, let alone return here to question me," Kid huffed. "The man ruling over the fjord makes me look kind by comparison. And that's to his own people. He's far worse to Christians. They won't survive a visit with him."

Nami pursed her lips, her eyes trembled as she glanced around him. She looked so small and helpless as she shivered with fear. He hated that his reassurance wasn't enough to quell her anxiety. He grabbed her shoulder, hoping to drag her into his arms to soothe her worries, but she pushed him back and squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'd be happy to kill them if you think that would be for the best," he suggested. "I've been on the verge of slitting his throat, anyway."

Nami shook her head, casting her gaze downward as another shiver passed through her. "It doesn't matter if you kill him here, or if he dies in Oslofjord. He's the harbinger of the storm."

"What?" he grunted, drawing her closer so he could hear her soft voice.

"He's the rat," she said, as though it explained everything.

"What rat?"

She looked up at him with a huff. "My last vision. A ship of rats came first. He is the rat."

Kid scowled. "I won't argue that he's a rat, but are you sure?"

"Yes," she bit out. "I had the vision again last night. The rats weren't on the ship anymore, they were on land. I am certain that he's the rat. If I stay, it'll bring the storm down on the village. I can't put you all in danger."

He groaned, rolling his eyes at her obstinacy. "Woman, I brought you under my protection with the full understanding that a war would come of it. I'm not worried about the danger. I'll kill everyone who tries to take you, regardless."

"But Kid," she began to argue, but he was done listening to her excuse.

"But nothing," he growled, snatching a length of rope hanging on a peg beside them. Before she knew what he meant to do, he began to wind the rope around her wrists, holding tight when she began to struggle.

"Kid, what are you -" He cut her off with a hard, frustrated kiss. He wouldn't let her fight with him on this. He wouldn't let her leave. She squealed against his lips and kicked at his legs. When he didn't move back and barely grunted when her foot struck his shin, she bit down hard on him, forcing him to back away with a hiss, but her hands were bound tight. "Untie me," she demanded.

"No," he grunted while tearing off a strip from the ratty, hooded cloak she wore over her finer one.

"Kid," she snapped.

"Shut up, woman," he hissed before shoving the cloth into her mouth. She shrieked around the strip as he reached into her hood to tie it behind her head. He barely dodged a strike aiming between his legs and pressed his hips into her to pin her in place. "Keep fighting me and you're going to get us both caught," he growled.

She muttered something behind her gag. He guessed it was a string of curses, likely a number of threats she would make good on once he freed her. Her glare alone told him he was in for a world of misery that night, but he didn't care, he couldn't let her run away.

He held tight to her arm as he checked that the mare's saddle was secure, then tossed Nami onto the horse's back, ignoring her groan when he dropped her onto her stomach to lay sideways. She kicked and lashed out with her legs. He wasn't sure if she was trying to slip off the horse or strike him, either way it was annoying and he smacked her backside to still her. She let out another muffled shriek and aimed a kick at his head.

"Stop fighting," he huffed as he blocked her kick. "I'll tie your legs if you keep struggling."

The threat made her give up with a long groan and another string of curses. With Nami still, he led the horse out of the stable, keeping a wary eye on the front of his hall. He saw his man, Ove, standing on the porch, laughing with one of the Frankish men. He waited until Ove cast a glance his way before waving to signal for a distraction. Ove didn't signal back, but he quickly turned the guest away, pointing off toward the woods in the opposite direction while loudly proclaiming that he just saw a large buck move between the trees.

Kid slipped out of the stables, Nami still secure on the back of the horse. When he was clear, he pulled himself into the saddle and helped get Nami into a more comfortable position in his lap. She was quiet as he eased the horse into a gentle canter and he peeked down at her to see her staring at him with watery eyes that made his heart twist with guilt. He brushed away his conscience before he could give in to it. He wouldn't have had to tie her up and handle her so roughly if she had just trusted him.

He steered them through the dirt paths between houses, aiming for the river while keeping a watchful eye on the village around him. Near the far edge of the village he spotted Hróarr in the middle of his patrol and waved him over. The older man glowered when he noticed the woman in his lap, but he ignored the silent rebuke as he leaned down to speak with him.

"I need you to brag about your daughter tonight," he said. "I told that bastard that I sent you on a long errand so I could enjoy your daughter. So, when you go to the hall, pretend to get drunk and start praising your beautiful girl and all the high hopes you have for her. Make a big show of your love for her, then pass out for the night. In the morning, you're going to go home and find us in bed together. I give you full permission to strike me so we can sell this ruse with a black eye."

"And what bed will you be staying in?" Hróarr asked, sparing a pitying glance toward Nami when she huffed in annoyance.

"My old home," Kid grumbled. "I thought to leave her with Heat, but she's got a bug up her ass about running away. She'll con him into leaving her alone long enough to run again."

Hróarr sighed, but agreed to the plan with a nod. "I'll come just after dawn." He glared, then nudged his head toward Nami. "I doubt I'll have to strike you. Lady Nami looks prepared to beat some sense into you herself."

Kid let out a short laugh as he kicked the horse to trot out of the village. He could feel her heated glare boring into his skull, he didn't need to look down and see it for himself. He still stole a quick look once they were in the thick of the woods along the riverbank and chuckled at her seething glare.

"You're cute when you don't get your way," he remarked, hoping to placate her with a teasing grin. Her lip curled with a sneer and she looked away with another ill-tempered huff. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I hate you," so he squeezed her tight against his chest and leaned down to press a kiss to her temple. "No, you don't," he whispered, hoping that he was right. He doubted she could come to hate him all because he bound her with rope… _again_. The gag might be a bit much. While he would enjoy kissing her into silence the whole time, it was difficult to ride a horse that way, so he was left with no other option but to gag her to keep her quiet.

He kicked his horse to speed up to a canter, winding them through dense, shadowy forest. They passed the clearing used as his shipyard and turned up the hill to take them into the woods further from the river. Nami shifted in his arms to peer around the area she had yet to see, curious of where he was taking her.

The sky grew a shade darker once he broke into another clearing with a stream running through a deeper basin that was cut from the heavier spring thaws. Most of the year it was just a trickle of water, frozen solid during the winter and nearly dried out in the summer months, but after the recent thaw and the rainy weeks of spring and early summer, it flowed steadily down the sloping hill.

An old bridge curved over the stream, leading to a well-worn path. The wood groaned and creaked under his horse's hooves, and he reminded himself that he needed to come by more often to fix up the property before the next winter.

Nami straightened in his arms when the slender fence of the house came into view. It was a small house with a thatch roof, shaded by an old oak tree that had stood sentry over that clearing since he was born and long before, too. An overhang to one side of the house protected a stack of chopped wood from the elements. A fenced in pen sat at the other side of home where they once kept two goats, and if they were fortunate enough to afford it, a pig. Most of their meat had come from Killer's farm, but they still tried to keep some for themselves so they wouldn't have to rely on their cousins.

He came to a halt at the front door, growling when Nami tried to squirm from his lap. He held her tight as he slid from the saddle and hefted her onto his shoulder while he tied the horse to the fence near a troth of rain water. Nami made the task difficult as she kicked and thrashed, but he managed to restrain her long enough to get inside the house. She didn't stop struggling as he carried her to the back where his old bed sat with ragged blankets and old furs collecting dust and dirt from months of disuse. The space was cramped and he nearly toppled over while trying not to smack his head on a low beam as Nami fought him. But he managed to get her to the back and dumped her onto the bed.

She shot up the moment she found her bearings and attempted to flee. He shoved her back and climbed onto the bed to straddle her, growling at her continued stubbornness. He snatched her bound hands and shoved them over her head to secure the rope on a corner post. She screamed behind her gag when she realized he wasn't freeing her any time soon. He began to pull away once she was tied to the bed, but a kick managed to strike true between his legs, forcing him to curl in on himself as his lungs forgot how to take in air.

"Fucking bitch," he whispered harshly, unable to strengthen his voice as the pain strangled him.

She spat what he assumed was an insult in return, but he couldn't even begin to understand her. All that mattered was that she was still angry and he was in for a long night of suffering her wrath.

He sucked in a strained breath, cupped his abused balls, and eased back onto his knees. She had stopped kicking after that hit, much to his relief, but her glare was as fiery as ever, her angry gaze rimmed by unshed tears. It was so rare for him to feel guilty about anything, but the combination of fear and anger in her eyes brought a pang to his chest. He wouldn't let himself give in to it, though. That was what she wanted. The moment he freed her, she would kick him in the balls again and take off into the night.

"I'll untie you when you calm down," he insisted, then climbed from the bed to gather some wood for a fire.

He left her to groan and mutter her muffled complaints. When he came back in and barred the door shut, Nami still sat in bed. He could see the glint of her eyes in the faint light seeping through the slats of the wall. Once he got a few candles lit, he glanced over to see her silently fuming, but she was still bound to the bed post, so he didn't worry much.

"You should be thanking me," he said as he tossed two pieces of split wood in the old hearth at the center of the main room. She muttered unintelligibly again. "If you had fled, you'd be stumbling around the woods alone again, and likely caught by someone who is willing to sell you back to Arlong. I'm keeping you from doing something you'll regret."

With the first spark of a flame catching the kindling he stuffed beneath the wood, he fanned the flame until it caught the logs and grew. The small home began to warm rapidly with the fire, pushing out the chill and darkness of night. He stood and made his way to Nami after warming his hands, and glowered at her red-rimmed eyes and the tears streaking down her cheeks. She was really set on making him feel guilty.

And of course it was working.

"Damn it," he hissed, warring with the tightness in his chest that urged him to set her free. "If I untie you, do you promise to stay here?"

Her lip quivered around her gag. Her glare turned thoughtful. When she finally nodded, he sighed and kneeled on the bed beside her.

"I did this for your own good," he argued as he pulled out his knife to slice the knot free. It was tighter than he thought, leaving red scratches where the coarse rope chaffed. Another pang of guilt struck him hard in the chest while he unwound the rope. "I can't let you leave."

She snatched her hands away as soon as they were free, and then slapped him hard across the cheek. His head turned with the force and his cheek stung. He deserved it. Nami was angry and upset with him, a complete contrast to how they were only hours earlier. He really wanted to kill Nezumi for fucking things up just by appearing on his shore.

Nami tore her gag off and curled up into the corner of the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. He glanced at her while rubbing his sore cheek. He hated how much it hurt to see her pull away from him. He wanted to be angry, yell at her for being over dramatic, but it would only make things worse. It wasn't her fault. She was conditioned to fear anyone associated with Arlong, it was only natural she run. And his poor treatment of her warranted her anger toward him.

"Nami," he said, sighing as he tried to think of some way to soothe her. He wouldn't apologize, even if he could admit that he might have gone too far by tying her up. He still knew he was right not to let her leave, and he would never apologize for doing what he felt was best, what he knew would keep her safe.

"Don't," she bit out, her tone thick with grief and anger. She curled her legs to her chest and rubbed her red wrists. That pang in his chest intensified and made the lingering sting of her slap feel like nothing. He'd rather she knee his balls again than see her so upset. The small scrapes left by the rope certainly justified that punishment. "I don't want to talk to you," she added, turning her face away.

He growled. Why couldn't she just yell at him? Why not throw something at him? He'd take her wrath and abuse over a cold shoulder. At least when she berated him, he knew what was going through her mind. But for once he had no idea how to poke at her temper and force her to lash out at him. At least he didn't think he could without destroying the bond they built between them.

He decided that she just needed time. She would forgive him on her own, even if he had to bear her silence until then. Hopefully by the time Nezumi left, she would see that the danger had passed and she remained safe. Though, he would need to question her about this latest vision that apparently foresaw the rat's arrival. He had been too preoccupied with the fact Nami left the safety of camp in England to care about her latest vision. She hadn't seemed particularly upset over whatever she was seeing, so he didn't think it important to question the details, merely trusted she would tell him what he needed to know when the time came. Well, that time was upon them, but he couldn't question her until she calmed down enough to talk.

Restraining the urge to fight her attitude, he climbed off the bed and stomped over to the fire. He slumped down onto a tiny, uncomfortable stool with his back to her and prepared to spend the night glaring at the fire until his eyes watered and turned blind. It was all he could do while blocking out the woman sniffling behind him. His jaw ticked when he heard the faintest whimper from her, a suppressed sob as she shifted on the bed. He could tell she was trying to be quiet, but as the silence of the small home grew heavy, her sniffling was all he could hear other than the crackle of the burning wood.

It was a far more brutal punishment than any strike she could level against him. Every moment that passed without a single word from her, his body grew tense and rigid, fighting off the urge to climb into bed with her and force her to forgive him. She wouldn't have to talk to him. He'd just kiss away her tears and distract her from her fears with the pleasure he had intended to give her that night. But if she didn't want to talk to him, he doubted she wanted him to touch her, and she'd only have more charges to level against him and hate him for.

The more he forced himself to ignore her, the more his temper whittled away. As justified as her hurt and anger was, he had every right to feel the same. _He_ should be angry with _her_. She had been the one foolish enough to run away. She had been the one who didn't trust him enough to stay as he told her. The thought that she didn't believe in him, didn't trust that he would protect her, no matter the cost, hurt him and he clung to the hurt until the pang of guilt was replaced with a swirling rage he somehow managed to restrain. She wanted to leave him, just as he had begun to take steps in winning her for himself. He had been preparing to put his heart out there for her, something he had never done for any other woman, and she cared so little about him, she had no qualms with tossing him aside and fleeing for her own safety.

"I'm hungry," she whispered suddenly, breaking through the circling thoughts that were fueling his pent-up rage.

"Well, that's too fucking bad," he bit out callously, unable to bring himself to care. His rational mind knew that he should care, and a part of him wanted to rejoice the fact she spoke at all, but the ache gnawing at his chest left him feeling too bitter to be anything but brusque with her. Knowing her, the hunger was just another ruse that might get him to leave long enough to make another run for the hills. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of falling to her tricks.

Nami huffed behind him. "Jerk."

His temper flared and he turned to snarl at her. "If you had just stayed in your fucking room like I told you, then you would have gotten your supper. It's your own damn fault."

"Why are you getting mad at me?" she yelled, her own tempering sparking with his. "You're not the one who was bound and gagged and carried off like a prisoner!"

"If I hadn't done that, you would have left me!"

"I wasn't leaving you!"

"Oh? So you were just going for a walk, then? You were planning to come back?" he bit out. "I don't believe that for a second."

She pursed her lips to muffle a frustrated scream, but her eyes were alight with her anger. "I was trying to protect you!"

"Well I'm trying to protect you, but you're making it difficult by being such a pain in the ass!"

"If you'd just let me leave, then you wouldn't have to worry about protecting me!"

"I wouldn't worry about protecting you if you'd stop arguing with me when I tell you to hide and let me handle it!" She had no retort save for a sneering growl that he was all too happy to return. "And what the fuck makes you think I'd be happy to see my woman leave me? I'm trying to give you reason to stay with me, and prove to whatever fucking god might have a problem with it, that they ain't got a say in our lives. But you obviously don't give a shit about any of that seeing you were ready to turn your back on me and throw out what we have," he growled. His temper began to abandon him, leaving him with only the ache she left in his chest at the very thought he might not see her again if she had succeeded in running away.

Nami's anger vanished in an instant and he turned his back to her when he saw her eyes widen in surprise. That look on her face made him feel strangely vulnerable. She had realized something, saw something he hadn't intended to show her. She was seeing through his anger, to the reason for it. He couldn't say he liked it, if only because he had no idea how she would react. She'd surely laugh at him, thinking that he cared so much about her while he was probably just a means to an end for her. He was an idiot if he thought he was anything else to her.

He glared at the fire, once more hoping to blind himself in the flames. Nami said nothing. She didn't laugh or mock him, but it was coming, he knew it. He heard movement behind him; the rustle of her clothes and the blankets on the bed, the scrape of her leather shoes on the dirty floor. He refused to look at her, tensed when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. She came around to crouch in front of him and he turned his face away, unwilling to see what expression she wore.

His teeth ground together when he heard her sigh, his hands balled into fists as she pushed them out of her way while climbing into his lap. And then her arms wound around his neck and he felt all the tension and anger fall away with a ragged sigh as he hesitantly returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, those simple words enough to wash away the pain in his chest.

He buried his face against her neck and nodded, unable to say anything himself.

"I really was just trying to save you," she insisted. "But maybe I was being too selfish."

His arms tightened around her as he nuzzled her neck. He didn't want to talk. He just wanted to revel in having her in his arms. She was safe there. And as long as she was there, then everything was right in their world. So long as she let him hold onto her, cling to her, then he could forget all the pain, all the darkness, all the loss. He could feel good and right and warm, more than he ever deserved, but he was too greedy and selfish to let her go now that he had her. He needed more than the taste she had given him. He needed to know what it felt like to have her whole heart and know that she would never forsake him.

"Even before I met you, my visions told me that losing you would be one of the most painful experiences of my life," she said, sniffling back a flurry of emotion that seemed to seep into his heart. "But now…" She let out a ragged breath and clung to him. "Those visions hardly did that loss justice… I don't want to live in a world without you in it."

He swore his heart was about to shatter his ribs, it was beating so hard. That subtle confession left him lightheaded and agonizingly happy.

"Who's going to hold my hand when I cry at your funeral?" she asked with a sad laugh he couldn't help but mirror. The gallows humor masked the fear and sorrow she truly felt. He hated that she had to face that possibility at all. He wouldn't fear his own death, but he would fear the state it would leave her in.

"That's why we're going to fight as hard as we can to change what you saw," he said with a voice raw from the emotional end to their argument. He pulled back, forcing her to loosen her hold so he could see her face. Her skin was pale and splotched with red, her eyes watery and as red as her cheeks. A stray hair stuck to a dried tear track beneath her eye. He forced a smile as he brushed the hair away. "And I know how you feel. I don't want you to leave because I need you in my life, I can't imagine it any other way now."

Her smile quivered as fear and uncertainty seemed to war in her eyes. But then she leaned in to kiss him, choosing him over her anxieties. He kissed her back like a man starved, digging his hand in her hair to hold her in place while he devoured her. This was what he would rather be doing. He didn't want to argue with her over his decision to keep her safe or her incessant need to run. He didn't want to think about what might come of their choices in life. He just wanted to savor what little happiness they could have together.

As his mind fogged over with her sweet taste and muffled mewls, he thought to take them to the bed where he could spend the whole night sinking into pure bliss with her. But then he heard her stomach rumble and broke the kiss with a chuckle.

"You really are hungry," he commented, snorting at her pout.

"I promise I won't leave if you go get me something to eat," she huffed.

"I know you won't leave." He shifted to stand and turned to set her on his stool. "But that's 'cause I'm not leaving, either." Her sulky pout deepened until he flicked her forehead to make her stop. He laughed at her annoyed glower and the bit of heat that flashed in her gaze. "I store dried fish and cheese here," he explained. "Might still have some ale left from the last time I stocked up."

She perked up while watching as he moved to the chest in the corner. "What is this place, anyway? I thought you said this was your old home."

"It is," he answered as he pulled out a chunk of cheese wrapped in cloth. It didn't look spoiled, still smelled good, so he handed it toward her before searching for the fish. He found the skin of ale; there wasn't much left, but it should be enough to wash down the meager meal.

"But you still keep food here," she prompted.

He shrugged, turning to her with some slices of dried fish tucked in a pouch. "It's a safehouse. If one of the villagers, or the family tending Killer's farm, get caught out here in a storm, they can use it to shelter for a night." He settled onto the floor beside her, leaning close to share the rations with her. "And there's an understanding among the village women that if they need somewhere safe to hide, they can come here. It's where I housed that woman and her son after granting her divorce. My men know to patrol out here to see that there's food, and if a woman's hiding here, they check to see that their husband didn't find them."

Nami shifted beside him and he glanced up when he felt her fingers sweep through his hair. She wore a smile that made his heart stop. The glint of pride in her eye took his breath away.

"What?" he grumbled, looking away to mask the unease he felt with that gaze. There weren't many people who looked at him with obvious pride, he could count them on one hand, and none of them looked at him with unmasked adoration. He swore it was too good to be true.

"You're a good man," she said. "You might be crude and short-tempered and violent," she added on, snickering when he glared at her, "but you care about the people in your village."

He shrugged off her praise. "I swore to protect them as their jarl. It's my responsibility to keep them safe. I won't make much of a name for myself if I let them all suffer."

"That isn't the only reason you care for them," she said quietly. "I think you're genuinely concerned about the well-being of those you're responsible for. You might want their adulation and respect, but I think you also want to see them happy and flourishing under your rule. You don't want them to live in fear of you."

"They fear me plenty," he muttered, picking off a flaky piece of fish to gnaw on.

"I'm sure they do fear your wrath, but they don't seem to fear you in their day to day lives. So long as they don't give you reason to be angry, they know they're safe with you, that you won't harm them unjustly." He peeked up to see her smiling kindly at him. "You save your real anger for those that wronged you."

He couldn't believe that this woman could be so kind, especially to a bastard like him. Especially after what he did to her that night.

His gaze flit to her wrist and he glowered at the marks there.

"Give me your hands," he ordered gruffly. Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she set her meal in her lap and held her hands out for him to take, allowing him to inspect the sores the rope left behind. He ran a thumb over an angry red scrap and then brushed his lips over it. "Sorry I tied you up again."

He kissed another sore and was rewarded with her sweet, tinkling laughter. The sound was as refreshing as a gentle breeze off the sea, soothing his guilt as she freed her hands from his to cup his face, tilting it up to steal a peck from his lips. "You're forgiven," she whispered.

Relief ran through him as she straightened and returned to her meal. And with that relief came a realization that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.

He had fallen in love with her.

* * *

Nami woke that morning to a heavy weight around her waist, a warm body pressed against her back, and raspy snores fanning through her hair. She couldn't help but smile as she squirmed in the tight confines of the bed to get closer to Kid. He groaned in his sleep and tightened his hold on her, drawing her against him just as she wished. She felt him nuzzle her, then he relaxed and his even snores returned.

She had gone to sleep alone after staying up late with Kid. They had sat by the fire, sharing the dried food and passing the skin of ale between them until it was gone. He had turned silent for a while, lost in thought as he stared at the fire, and she wondered if she should break him free when she asked him about the life he led in the tiny, one room home he had lived in before becoming jarl.

It took some coaxing, but eventually he shook off whatever thoughts had him so distracted and answered her queries with more than a grunt. He pointed out the spots on the wall where his mother marked his height. He made her sit on the floor so he could show her the carvings beneath the stool he made one night when he was bored but couldn't sleep. There were others on the wall where he had slept as a child, and she saw more gouged into the posts of the bed when he slept there as a teen, after his mother had been moved into Killer's home to be cared for while ill.

He found one of the boats he made as a child. It still sat on a shelf above the bed, covered in dust with its patchwork sail eaten through from years of disuse. It was tiny, carved from a branch rather than pieced together like a real ship, but he assured her that it floated down the river just fine. He laughed when he said one of his first boats sunk when he tried to put a mouse in it and let it sail to the fjord. It made it all the way to the fjord, but the poor mouse was jostled by the changing current into the bay and turned the boat over. The boat got lost in the waves, but he assured her that he saw the mouse swim back to shore.

He told her stories about the cold nights when his mother let him take the bed while she sat shivering alone by the fire. When he turned twelve, he insisted on going hunting with his cousins to take out a bear big enough to give her a good fur cloak to wear, and maybe even make a smaller blanket for himself so she didn't have to give up her bed. Killer's father managed to corner a wolf long enough for Kid to put an arrow in it. It wasn't enough to make more than a cloak for his mother, but was better than nothing, and he spent the spring helping gather enough wool to have one of the thralls make him a new blanket for the next winter.

When his mother died, he took the wolf pelt from the cloak he made her and used it for his own, carrying her memory on his shoulders to that very day.

Then he asked about her mother – _Bellemere_ – and she hesitated to share her own stories. It was hard enough just remembering her mother. The memories were bittersweet, soured by her death. She hated talking about her, dredging up those times in her life that were lost. But as Kid stared at her with that innocently expectant look, she swallowed her unhealed grief and shared the best memories she could with him. He had shared so much with her, it was only fair she open up to him in turn.

She told him about the time she beat up the boys who mocked Bellemere and received a grin and bark of laughter from Kid. His amusement grew when she said Bellemere smacked her upside the head for it, then turned her ire onto the boys after she told her all that they said. She didn't appreciate being called an old hag. Kid said he understood where her fiery personality came from, and praised the woman for raising her to be as tough as she was.

She told him about the first map she drew and how Bellemere praised her work. She had nailed it to the wall, right over their bed. Bellemere had said that someday she would be able to sail over all the seas, see new lands, and she wanted her to return with maps of everywhere she had been so that she could hang those on the wall, too. Kid had taken her hand when her smile grew pained and left a teasing kiss to make the smile come easier. His eyes shone with mirth she couldn't quite feel as he reminded her of his promise to take her wherever she desired so she could make all the maps she wanted.

All would be for Bellemere, none for him. The reaffirmed promise made her chest warm while that bittersweet pang of loss stole her voice. Silence fell over them again as she curled up beside him, but the silence was comfortable, one neither cared to disturb as Kid trailed his fingers through her hair. The soft gesture lulled her, and when she gave a yawn and felt her eyes grow heavy, Kid nudged her away and ordered her to bed. _Alone_. The bed was too small for the two of them, he said. He would rest on the floor by the fire. She was prepared to argue, to stay by the fire with him, but he waved her off. She would take the bed, end of argument.

But sometime in the night he had squeezed his way in, rousing her enough to sigh happily at the company while burrowing against his chest. He had been right, the bed was far too small for both of them, but that didn't deter them in the end. Kid wrapped her up in his arms as he curled up and she fell back to sleep, warm and safe.

Something had changed between them that night. She couldn't quite say what, but she knew that it was good. After the day she had, she couldn't believe that she would be content to share a bed with him again, but she couldn't be happier to be there.

She hadn't been thinking when she tried to run away. Her only thought was to get away, to escape the danger drawing near, to spare Kid and his people the pain of a war they didn't ask for, that they didn't deserve. She wanted to protect Kid, but in the end, her actions had hurt him. All the anger she had over the way he handled her vanished when she saw the pain he felt from her actions slip through. She was still hurt that he went so far to keep her there, but seeing how much the thought of her leaving affected him, she had to put her own thoughts aside and comfort him, reassure him that she did care, that she wasn't leaving because of him. And he apologized for hurting her in the end, so sacrificing her own pride was worth it.

She still felt uneasy about staying there, but she knew it was too late to flee. She didn't want to throw away the friendships she had made, and certainly not the relationship she was forging with Kid. She had already abandoned her sister, a woman that meant the world to her but she couldn't bring herself to speak of lest the guilt eat her alive. She couldn't lose the first real happiness she had found since she was a child. So, she would quell her fears and trust that they could handle whatever came. She would trust in Kid, even if she couldn't quite trust herself.

She rolled over to face him, snickering at his annoyed groan when the movement jostled him in his sleep. He threw his leg over her once she settled, pressed his nose to her hair, and slept on. She found that she liked his habit of smothering her in his sleep, at least most of the time. It was cute how earnestly he searched for her, even while unconscious, and how pleased he was to keep her caged in his arms where he surely thought she belonged.

She especially enjoyed it because she had the pleasurable experience of being pressed up against a naked chest built with solid muscle. Over the weeks, she had begun to silently appreciate Kid's propensity to walk around topless, especially in the privacy of their rooms. His wide shoulders rippled with the strength to carry some of her burdens and shield her from danger. The muscles of his torso were carved so delicately, her fingers always itched to trace over every defined line on his chest and stomach. The iron strength he carried in his arms was forged over years of battle and ship building. And the knowledge that his embrace could crush her with ease, made her appreciate the restraint he showed when holding her close, protecting her with his power, not destroying her with it.

That morning she gave in to the urge to touch him and traced her finger along his collarbone. He shifted closer as she followed the ridge down to the center of his chest. His skin was rougher than her own, but the muscle soft enough to give in under her firm touch. She dragged her finger down, followed the curve of his pec. She bit her lip as she traced around the edge of a flat nipple, and sucked in a breath when his pec twitched at her touch. Her lips tingled with the need to kiss him there, her mouth watered with the need to taste him. It had felt good when he suckled her through her shift the other night, she wondered if it would feel the same for him.

Kid stiffened with a stretch, bringing a halt to her wayward thoughts. He relaxed into her with a groan and wound his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his chest as he nuzzled the top of her head.

"G'morning," he rasped into her hair, his husky voice sending an odd shiver of pleasure down her spine. "What's for breakfast?"

His question ruined the inkling of lust that teased her. Her hand was trapped against his chest, right over the nipple she had been considering so intently before he woke. So, in her ire, she trapped the bud between thumb and forefinger to pinch and twist until he pulled away with a hissed curse.

"What the fuck was that for?" he groaned once she finally released him. He nursed the bright red bud that was left puckered by her abuse. For a brief moment she was distracted with her lustful curiosity, wondering if it would look the same had it been her lips wrapped around it, instead of her fingers.

She shook away those thoughts to glower up at him. "You know very well we have nothing for breakfast," she snapped. "Unless you have another stash of dried fish somewhere."

"Tsh, no need to abuse me for that," he huffed, then tossed his arm back around her to return them to their previous position. "Hopefully Hróarr will bring something to eat. If not, I'll send Gunda back with a meal for you." He let out a content hum as he buried his nose in her hair. "We'll just stay like this while we wait."

Her ire vanished and she sank into his embrace. She liked that idea.

"I thought you were going to sleep on the floor," she remarked while she freed her hand from between their chests to trace a finger over his side. His muscles twitched for her again and he squirmed against her, letting out a low groan as he returned the gesture by trailing his fingers over her shoulder. She had removed her brooches and apron dress, leaving her in the thin linen dress she wore beneath. The neckline scooped wide and low, and was easily pushed aside to free a shoulder for his attention. She shivered as his fingers grazed along her neck, over her shoulder, and back up again, teasing over her collarbone with his thumb at every pass.

"Got cold and uncomfortable," he explained. His voice was pitched lower and sounded hoarse. It sounded just as it had the other night when he whispered his poetic words in her ear and set her body on fire with his touch. Just remembering the way his breath fanned over her neck with each word made her gut coil and warm, her insides clenching with a need for _something_ that she couldn't put words to herself.

She managed to giggle at what she knew was an excuse. He wanted to be in bed with her. He always did. It was laughable to think he needed any sort of excuse to crawl under the old fur blanket and wrap himself around her.

"And squeezing into a tiny bed with me is more comfortable?" she asked, snickering. "Your feet hang off the end."

His growl sounded playful as he shifted to brush a kiss to her temple. "So long as I got you in my arms, I could be laying on a bed of spikes and be comfortable."

She turned her face up to his, smiling wide at his feigned glower. "You just wanted to cuddle with me."

Kid snorted before leaning in to tease her with the possibility of a kiss. He hovered just far enough away to feel the heat of him, but didn't close the gap. She could see the crinkling at the corner of his eyes that told her he was grinning. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure you didn't take off in the night while I slept. You can't escape so easily when I got you trapped like this."

She pouted and finally got the kiss she wanted.

"Or maybe I did just want to hold my woman," he whispered against her lips before kissing her again. "There a problem with that?"

She shook her head and boldly took another kiss from him.

His groan rumbled in his chest as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. He cupped her jaw, threading his fingers through loose strands of hair, and held her in place while he kissed her senseless. The kisses they shared the night before had been deep and savoring, but that morning they turned hungry, tinged with a rough need that wouldn't be sated with a few pecks.

There was an urgency in their kiss that made Nami moan while her lungs ached for a breath. Her hands ran over his chest, drinking in the taut muscle beneath her fingertips. She could feel his heart race and the rumble of another moan. His hand left her jaw to grasp her thigh and hitch it on his hip, rolling his hard length against her. Her nails dug into his flesh when that firm touch lit the same fire it had the other night, spurring her to press into him and silently beg that he do it again.

Kid shoved her back and settled between her legs, then broke the kiss to hiss as he ground into her again. Her legs wrapped around him on instinct and she rubbed against him, seeking the pleasure he had given her before as the first tingles grew into a desperate ache and then a roaring blaze.

Kid latched onto her neck and drew out a mewl when he found the spot that made her eyes roll back in her head. He pulled back abruptly, chuckling at her whimper, and then darted to the other side of her neck.

"Forgot," he muttered between gentle nips. "Need t' give your left side attention."

When he wrapped his lips around a spot beneath her ear, she praised his memory as a bolt of pure ecstasy raced through her. She never imagined a single spot on her neck could be connected to the spot begging for his touch between her legs, but it was, and with every suck and nip he gave her, she felt her core churn and clutch at nothing, seeking sweet release. She arched into him and cried out. She was on fire.

"I need you to touch me this time," he grumbled into her ear, tickling her when he nibbled on the shell.

She didn't quite understand what he said. She was touching him. She was clinging to him, dragging her nails over his flesh until angry red welts formed wherever her hands went. But when he ground his cock into her again and shuddered above her, she understood where he needed her touch most.

He was pressed too close to reach him, but then he lifted his chest from her so he could tug down the top of her dress. His kisses descended her chest, sucking and laving the swells of her breasts. When his mouth found her aching nipple, freed from the scratchy linen, she arched into him and clutched his head to her as his lips drove another bolt through her. As he suckled her, she writhed beneath him, her breath coming in short gasps that left her lightheaded. Just as her other breast began to grow heavy with need, aching for his touch, too, he shifted to the side, shocking her wet nipple with a blast of cold air, and latched onto her other breast to torture her with the same pleasure.

"Touch me," he demanded through a growl, his mouth not once leaving her breasts as he spoke. One hand came up to knead the breast not being worshipped by his tongue. The other snagged her hand and brought it between them, down to the front of his trousers to feel the hard cock desperate for her touch.

He groaned and bucked into her hand. The response intrigued her, so she squeezed his length and rubbed her hand over him. He hissed out a curse and then pushed himself up to slam his lips to hers. His bare chest pressed against hers was enough to make her shiver and arch into him, seeking more of the fluttering sensation his heated skin brought as it caressed hers. She wondered if he liked feeling their skin glide together as much as she did.

While his tongue delved into her mouth and his kiss made her melt, she subtly loosened the ties of his trousers to slip her hand inside. Kid broke the kiss to let out a throaty groan the moment her hand wrapped around his stiff shaft. He bucked into her grip as he buried his face against her neck, muffling his moans and gasps as his hips thrust into her grip. He pressed a mindless kiss to her throat, then hissed when her thumb traced over the head of his cock.

His reactions to her touch were encouraging. She had never touched a man like this. Never felt the heavy weight of a cock, nor the velvety texture of the skin wrapped around the hard shaft. Her thumb swept over the head again, soaking in the feel of the soft flesh, and collected a dewy drop of fluid.

Kid shifted above her, lifting his hips enough to reach between them. His hand wrapped over hers. "Tighter," he commanded as he squeezed his hand around hers, then drew her hand up and down his length. "Like this…" he rasped, groaning as he met their hands' movement with a thrust. He drew his hand away after a moment, and moaned as she continued to rub him as he showed her. "That's it…" he breathed out, then wrapped his lips around her earlobe to suck and nibble on her.

"Nami," he said with a pleasured sigh. She felt him tug at the hem of her dress, pushing it higher. Another bolt of desire raced through her when his fingers trailed over the inside of her thigh. "I'm trying to restrain myself," he whispered as his fingers toyed along the edge of her undergarments. She gasped when he peeled them to the side, arched as he gently traced over her lower lips. She had never been touched like that, either. "I know I can't take you yet," he continued to say. "But I want to," he said through a groan. " _Need to_ ," he growled.

She felt a finger press into her folds, easily slipping through her wetness. The first inkling of pressure took her breath away as he slowly eased the finger into her canal. She caught her breath as he slowly drew it back out. His thumb ran over a spot hidden in her folds at the top of her slit, the same spot he struck the other night that drove her mad with lust just by rubbing against her. The direct touch brought a wave of pleasure far stronger than what he had given her before, and as his finger thrust into her again, the fire he lit was stoked. She couldn't even fathom the thought of drowning and burning at the same time, but it was the only way to describe the foggy state of her mind and the searing coil winding tight inside her.

He pushed in a second finger on the next thrust, stretching her sweetly and making her cry out his name as a tremor raced through her. He thrust his hand faster, rubbed over a spot that made her toes curl and her eyes burst with black stars. She could feel her core clutching him with every pass, as though her body needed him inside her, needed him to drive her lust into an all-consuming inferno. For a brief moment, the sheer intensity of it scared her, but the fear ebbed as Kid kissed up her cheek, seeking her lips to swallow her moans and share her gasps.

"You feel so good, Nami," he rasped against her lips. "I want to bury myself inside you, give myself to your heat, and never part from it again."

She cried out and angled her hips up, seeking out that same connection. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, pressed his forehead to hers, and watched as she gave in to the heat swirling in her core. The pressure inside her snapped without warning and the fire he created erupted, bursting free to singe every part of her body with mind-numbing ecstasy. All she could do was clutch him tight, hold on to the only solid thing she recognized while her body arched off the bed and writhed uncontrollably.

She swore she heard a raspy "Beautiful" escape the man above her as her body slumped back into the bed, boneless and spent and still tingling with lingering pleasure. His hand stilled, but his fingers remained buried inside her while his other hand came to wrap around hers. She was still holding his shaft, but in her euphoric haze, she had forgotten all about it. He didn't seem to hold that against her as he took control of his own needs, pumping their hands over him until she felt the shaft twitch. She managed to open drowsy eyes that she hadn't even realized were shut, and looked up to see his lips twisted in a grimace. He twitched again, and then a harder pulse churned beneath her palm. His eyes rolled back and then shut, and he let out a deep, relieved groan just as she felt something wet splatter against her thigh.

If her skin wasn't already on fire from her orgasm, she would have been burning with a blush when she realized it was his seed.

Kid slumped over her, breathing hard with his face buried against her neck. She said nothing as her mind caught up with the fact she had just helped him find his release, while he gave her yet another. She couldn't find it in her to care about how easily she gave in to her desires. She had been determined to hold her own pace, to make him take their courtship slow, but once he touched her, kissed her, drew her in close, she was powerless to resist him. But she grudgingly admitted the ecstasy he gave her was worth the loss of control.

Kid chuckled once he caught his breath. His lips pressed hard to her cheek, the kiss making her stomach flutter and smile grow. It was such a sweet, simple gesture that made her feel adored and treasured. He sat back on his knees, chuckling again when she whimpered at the chill that came without his hot body above her. He held her gaze and wore a smug grin as he drew his fingers from her core. Her eyes widened as she watched him wrap his lips around them, sucking them clean with a savoring moan.

His rusty eyes were filled with heat, making them glow like molten iron. The look bored into her, burned her as much as his touch, and made her shudder with a desire for _him_.

"One of these days I'm going to get a good taste of you," he said once his fingers were clean, his deep voice filled with a lewd promise. As his gaze swept over her, his grin grew. He darted his tongue out to lick his lips once his gaze settled between her legs. "I think that's how I'll pleasure you next time." He met her shocked gaze when she squeaked at the bold statement and his licentious smile. "I'm tempted to stay in bed with you all day, see how many ways I can make you cry out my name without taking you."

She tried to squeeze her thighs together to ease the ache that thought gave her, but with Kid in the way, she only managed to make him laugh and lower himself back to her, nestling himself between her legs and easing the ache with his body and the soft cock sliding against her wet slit. She squirmed beneath him as he nuzzled her neck and wrapped her up in his arms.

"Seems you like that idea," Kid teased.

She did, but her stomach rumbled to life to remind her _why_ they couldn't laze in bed all day. "You have to get more food," she reminded, pouting up at him when he drew back to glower at her. "And Hróarr should be here soon."

He huffed. "I'll send him away."

"You need to check on the hall and see when Nezumi's going to leave," she added, clinging to reason rather than succumb to temptation. If she let him do as he pleased, they were bound to end up tangled together, forgetting the reason for the proper courtship entirely.

He groaned. "Fuck him. I want to stay here." His words were coupled with a kiss to the corner of her jaw. His teeth dragged over her, making her shiver, and he chuckled. "You want me to stay, too."

"It doesn't matter." She tried to shove his head away, but he rolled his length against her and her breath caught at the searing heat of his flesh against her core. "You have things to do."

"I have a woman to do," he jested, nipping her ear hard enough to make her jump and shriek.

"Kid," she whined, trying to ignore the hand subtly moving closer to her breast. "Stop."

He growled in annoyance and kneaded her breast, anyway. His lips wrapped around her pulse and took her breath away as he made her mind fog with lust again. She couldn't hold to reason well enough to argue with him. He was set on seducing her again, and her body was happy to let him.

A pounding knock at the door broke her from the haze of desire. "Kid," she snapped, pushing at his shoulders while he continued to kiss along her jaw. "Someone's at the door."

"Go away," he called out before snatching her hands off him to pin her down and slam his lips to hers.

She growled into the rough kiss and struggled while whoever was at the door pounded on the wood again. This time it was paired with a bellowing "Jarl Eustass" that she recognized as Hróarr's voice.

Nami turned her face away to break the kiss. "Kid," she shouted. "I said _stop._ "

"Damn it," Kid snarled, turning to glare at the door. "You have shitty timing, Hróarr."

"Jarl Eustass, if you do not open this door at once, I will take my axe to it," Hróarr hollered back. "And if I find that you're in bed with my daughter, I'll take that axe to your dick."

Nami blinked in confusion at the last warning. She knew the identity Kid had given her to keep any guests that knew her from asking too many questions, but that was only necessary when there was a risk of being overheard. They were far from the village, Hróarr should have no reason to refer to her as his daughter there.

"Fuck off, old man. I'm going to stay –" Kid's grip loosened enough for her to free a hand and slap it over his mouth to cut him off. He glanced at her, eyes narrowed, but she only returned his glare with her own.

"He's not alone, idiot" she hissed.

He cursed behind her hand and finally climbed off her. He quickly tucked himself back into his trousers, snatched a cloth from the chest and tossed it at her, hissing an order that she clean up while he trudged toward the door. She had to hastily get her dress to rights before he opened the door and just barely got herself covered when he tossed the bar to the ground.

The moment he swung the door open, he was greeted by a simmering Hróarr. The older man pulled back a fist and threw it into Kid's nose before he could even think to dodge, sending his jarl stumbling back. Nami clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back an alarmed cry when Hróarr took advantage of Kid's lack of balance in that moment and tackled him to the floor. He threw another punch that came with a sickening crunch. Her stomach roiled when she saw the trickle of blood from Kid's nose as he turned to spit out another glob of blood.

"I was followed," Hróarr explained with a harsh whisper, then prepared to strike Kid again.

Nami jumped out of bed, thinking to stop them from turning the mock fight into a real one, but Kid caught Hróarr's fist and grinned at the man. Her cry finally escaped when Kid pitched his head forward to slam it into Hróarr's face. Hróarr toppled off him with the single strike that split his lip, allowing Kid to scramble from the floor. The grin he wore wasn't angry in the least, but excitement and fire glinted in his eye as though he were truly prepared to fight the older man.

Instead of attacking Hróarr like she expected him to, he spun on his heel to snatch up his tunic. He paid no mind to the man scrambling to his feet behind him as he approached her, chuckling mischievously as he wound his arm around her waist. She squeaked in surprise when he drew her in and crushed his lips to hers in a hard kiss. When he pulled back, his smile was softer, filled with happiness and contentment. She couldn't hold back her matching smile as he stole one more kiss and then released her just in time to dance away from Hróarr's axe.

"I'm going, old man," he hollered, dodging a half-hearted slash.

His laugh echoed in the small space as he continued to dance and dodge away from Hróarr. It was all a game to him.

He ran out of the house barefoot, but Hróarr grabbed his boots and chucked them out the door. One slammed into Kid's shoulder, the other smacked the back of his head.

"If I see you near my Ketta again, I'll have your head," Hróarr shouted while Kid jumped onto his horse.

She was careful to stand in the shadows, pulling her hooded cloak over her to keep anyone watching from seeing her hair. She slipped up behind Hróarr to watch Kid kick his horse into a rapid gallop, tossing back a rude gesture and barked insult at Hróarr. He caught her eye a moment and his grin turned cocky as he winked. She couldn't begin to understand why that look made her blush.

Hróarr spun around to glower at her with what she guessed was a father's disappointment. She jumped back, trying hard not to giggle at his reddened face and narrowed eyes. She still felt giddy with delight after her morning with Kid, and the kiss he gave her before leaving only rekindle that happiness. With a resigned sigh, Hróarr slammed the door shut and waved her away.

"I swear, my heart won't hold up if this courtship is long," he grumbled while putting the bar in place. A snicker leaked out of her pursed lips as she tried not to smile. He looked at her, then rolled his eyes. "For the sake of my sanity, please marry him before the last harvest."

* * *

 _Oslo_

He had spent three days acclimating himself to the village he would call home for the foreseeable future, trying to get a grasp on their way of life. At first glance, the village and surrounding farms that stretched far into the hills and mountains around the fjord appeared no different than any other village or town he visited. But any time the villagers saw the king's peacekeepers, they quickly looked away, kept their heads down, and shuffled off as fast as they could. And if the king left the walls of his fortress, they fell to their knees and bit their lips to keep from saying anything, fearful that he might hear.

Life was not as peaceful as it appeared.

The man they had taken when he arrived still sat chained in the main square, his face bloody and swollen. _Corazon_ had examined the man two days into his punishment to see that he was still breathing, though each breath came ragged and strained. He likely had a broken rib or two, his jaw was fractured and out of place, the bones of his face were smashed in, and his nose was pushed to the side, his nostrils twisted in a way that made it impossible to breathe through his nose. He wondered how much longer he would be forced to remain there, how much the king would see him tormented. It might be a mercy to just let him die, but he wasn't about to help the poor man along, not if it ended with him in those chains.

Enel didn't trust him, which was fine. He didn't care if anyone there trusted him. He was an outsider, one who did not share his real name, nor his true purpose there. With his motives so shrouded, he expected them to keep a wary eye on him while holding him at a distance. He had no intention of interfering in Enel's reign, at least not until it suited him, but he also had no intention of aiding the king more than necessary as an ally. He wouldn't let his status as an outsider and untrustworthy man hinder his purposes.

His role as ally gave him access to Enel's fortress and left him free to roam the region as he pleased. The king arranged for him to stay in an old, rundown farmhouse tucked in the trees and hills of a peninsula to the west of the main bay. It belonged to the former king and was left to rot over the years since Enel overthrew his predecessor. Since he wanted _Corazon_ at arm's length, or wholly out of sight until needed, he allowed him to remain in the house with the understanding that he would be left to fend for himself. He would receive no food from Enel's hall. If he were fortunate, he might receive a cup of ale should he stop in for a visit. Otherwise, it was expected that he would not be a burden upon the king, and _Corazon_ was more than happy to oblige him.

He didn't want to rely on that man any more than he already had to, and he certainly didn't want to get too caught up in the man's grab for power. He was only there for one purpose – to find the woman with amber hair that was the key to his plan's success.

Over the three days, he learned much of Enel and the army he commanded. The peacekeepers led by McKinley were nothing more than standard patrol soldiers meant to protect order within Enel's territory. His army, though, was another thing entirely. The man who called himself God commanded a meager army if only considering the number of soldiers loyal to him. Fifty men were led by four warrior priests, and while their number may be small, they had singlehandedly seized the region from the previous king, unsettled large swaths of land further north and into the mountains, displaced jarls that refused to bend their knee to him upon defeat, and enslaved the surviving soldiers of the former king's army. Enel had only lost a handful of men, but he replaced them with the warriors that defeated those individuals, further strengthening his army.

His lazy, aloof demeanor within his hall came from the ease at which he held his title. He had nothing to fear, no enemies to worry over. He ruled his people with a merciless spear, killing all that questioned him, enslaving those of use to him, and enlisting the strongest who were smart enough to fear him. _Corazon_ would almost be impressed, but he was painfully familiar with how cruel men like Enel could be. Even those loyal to him were not safe from his wrath should he deem it necessary to kill them. And his cold heart would never mourn the loss of a single soldier, tossing their memory aside with a callous disregard even he was incapable of.

 _Corazon_ did find some pleasantness within the village. As he wandered a path along the rocky western shore of the peninsula, he spotted a fisherman repairing his boat while his daughter sat nearby plucking at the strings of her lyre. They were kind and welcoming, inviting him to have a meal with them that night. They had been the ones to explain Enel's laws to him, why the man was chained and beaten in the square, and what his fate would likely be when they were done. Apparently, he would be set adrift in a worn faering with no food or water, too injured to row to shore and search for shelter. Eventually he would reach the open straits and either die of exposure, or starvation, or tossed into the sea in a storm and taken by their goddess Rán. If he was wise, he would end his misery quickly and leap into the sea before he could suffer for long. At least Rán was known to care for the drowned men she took into her hall, so he might find some peace in the afterlife.

 _Corazon_ saw the lessons he had learned from a young age at play within Oslofjord. The weak had no choice in their deaths. It was the strong that ruled them, the strong that decided when their time would come, and these people were already resigned to that fate, whenever it came.

It was late on his third night in Oslofjord when he made his way to the main village to walk along the beach and observe the longships rocking in the water, tied fast to their moorings. The sky above was slowly growing dark, but the western peaks in the distance were cast against a fiery backdrop as the sun hid just over the horizon. As summer came upon the region, the days would gradually become longer until the nights were only discernable by the moon in the sky and the extra shadows on the ground. The darkness of night would last only a few hours before twilight returned with the promise of dawn's glow.

He spied the king on the docks, facing out at the bay alone. The villagers had long ago retired for the evening. The world was still and at peace around the king who brought only misery and fear to his people. He doubted Enel had noticed his solitude at all. He doubted he cared.

"Have you begun to settle in?" Enel called out, surprising _Corazon_ with the question. He was more aware of the world around him than he appeared.

"I have," he answered, strolling toward the dock to stand with the king.

"Good," Enel said, his gaze fixed on a spot in the distance. "The storm will be upon us soon."

"I am curious to know what this storm might entail. I've gathered that it is not a true storm, with lightning and rain, but a metaphor for something you have seen. Is this storm a great threat to the peace here?" he asked as he leaned against a piling and observed the king. While his gaze appeared steady, he noticed the man's pupils were wide, nearly overtaking his grey-blue irises. His mind was not entirely there.

Enel chuckled. "You are right, the storm is not a storm, though every night my gaze casts south and sees a tumult of dark clouds, growing and roiling and streaked with lightning." _Corazon_ glanced over his shoulder in the direction Enel stared. He saw nothing.

"How do you know I am the harbinger of this great storm?" he asked.

Enel blinked from the daze of his vision and cast a sly smile his way. "I saw a man clad in black with death written upon bloodstained hands. Calamity follows in your wake."

 _Corazon_ fought the urge to shift at the remark, clasping his hands together and rubbing the lettering tattooed to the backs of his fingers. That vision was truer than he liked. "And what came after me? Surely you have not only see clouds?"

Enel looked back out to sea, his smile growing wide. "I have seen rats and dead fish and a great, ravenous wolf."

 _Corazon_ swallowed a chuckle. He suspected he knew who the wolf was meant to be. The man with blood red hair had certainly appeared ravenous as he descended upon the battlefield to protect the single woman he was after.

"Any others you have seen?" he asked, curious if this man had foreseen the woman he searched for. He still was unsure if she would follow the path that would lead her to him, but perhaps the seer king before him had a clue of the fate she followed.

Enel's gaze turned knowing. "You seek someone," he said frankly. No question. No curiosity. He saw what _Corazon_ was there for. If that bit of knowledge bothered the king, he did not show it as he cast his gaze outward again. "I have… _sensed_ someone within the tree. They hide from my view, but I need not look for them to know they are there, watching me, seeing the same storm that I see. I do not yet know what role they will play in the building storm, but when I finally lay eyes on them, I will know for certain who they are and why I need them."

 _Corazon_ hummed thoughtfully. Enel looked at him with a piercing gaze that made him wonder if the man could see more than the fate ahead of them. Did the druid not warn him to take care of who he spoke to here?

"Who is this person you seek?" Enel asked, turning his whole attention toward him.

"A person of great importance," he said cryptically. He could not give himself away. "I have come to bear witness the fate your gods have created for them."

"Is this fate connected to mine?"

"I cannot say. I am not a seer. I am merely an observer. But I have been told that fate would bring them here, so I can only surmise that their fate flows into yours." All that he said was true. He had no intention of interfering with Enel's plans. If she came to Oslofjord, then it was only a matter of biding his time until he could take her. "Perhaps I am meant to play a role in it, but I am doubtful of that."

Enel frowned at him. He looked prepared to say something, but his attention snapped back toward the bay so suddenly that _Corazon_ knew something was amiss.

"What is it?" he asked, watching as Enel glowered at the sea.

The king eased down to crouch on the dock, propping his chin on his hand as he stared. "The storm is shifting."

"Is it coming closer?"

"No, not yet. It appears it does not know which way it will go yet. There are forces at play, other directions it could go," Enel explained

 _Three paths_ , he thought to himself. If she was venturing to a path that would take her out of his reach, that might account for the change Enel observed. He did not want to risk that. He needed her to find the third way, to come to that fjord and find him. Could he meddle with the fates to increase his odds?

He turned to stare off to the south with Enel, thinking of his options. If Enel knew more, would he be able to influence her choices? He did not understand the importance of the rats and fish in the vision, but he knew the wolf. He knew that in order to get her, he needed to remove that particular obstacle. Either he needed to drive them apart long enough to get his hands on her, or he needed to see the wolf put down, taken permanently out of his way.

He crouched down beside Enel. He knew what he had to do.

"I can tell you about the wolf…" He paused, sensing as Enel slowly turned to look at him. "And the amber-haired woman he is sworn to protect."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** It took Kid 22 chapters to realize he was in love in 'Possession'... And this time it took him 23 chapters. I didn't plan on him having that realization this early, but Kid does what he wants. The bastard. At least this time he realized his feelings before he's had sex with her, lol._

 _I think the only reference I need to make note of is the name 'Ketta' - it's from Beowulf._

 _Also, I forgot to mention in the last chapter's notes that Oslo is not actually 'Oslo' at this time period, but the only thing I've found about the name of the region prior to it's official finding in the 1200s is that no one can quite figure out what it was named for. Also Norway's king did not permanently reside there until the 1200s. We're in a time period where a lot of people called themselves king and warred with each other and overthrew each other and there really wasn't an official royal lineage, it was just whoever killed the last king became the new king. But the king of Norway at this time was obviously not named Enel, so we've officially moved far away from historical accuracy and from this point on everything is going to be steeped in mythology and mysticism more than history, so I'm forgiving my lack of accuracy on this._

 _And yes, Law is officially going to be another major point of view. Everyone rejoice for that because when I came up with this fic he was hardly going to be more than a fleeting cameo, now he's literally central to the plot (along with Loki... I think Loki and Freyja are the gods most driving my creativity and inspiration for this fic, which doesn't surprise me, tbh)._

 _I will try to get one more chapter done before I leave for England and Norway, but I make no promises on that._

 _Edit - thank you to the reviewer that pointed out I misspelled 'canter' the first time. Also, to the same reviewer, yes, Ketta is the name, or word, used to reference Grendel's mother in the Old Norse version of the Beowulf story. It's thought to mean 'she-cat' or a great feline spirit._


	24. Chapter 24

_Warning: Sexual content and mentions of violence._

 _Also, Loki has hijacked this fic and made himself a character. Enjoy that._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Final Choice_

That bastard was only supposed to be in his village for one night, maybe two if repairs took longer. But, no, Nezumi had to lurk around the village for four nights and Kid wasn't stupid enough to believe he was preparing himself to face down death in Oslofjord.

His ship was fixed in two days, but somehow took on water during the evening while tied to the dock. Kid's suspicions grew when he inspected the hull and found a wood slat that had been warped, like someone tried to peel it off but only succeeded in creating a weak point that let water slowly trickle in. He doubted it was from the reef they hit. It was too high and the boards weren't splintered. Wire assured him that the damage hadn't been there when he inspected it the first day, which meant someone tampered with the ship to keep them in Drafn longer than they were supposed to be.

He was fuming when he realized what had happened. He didn't know how he reined in his temper, but somehow he restrained the urge to throttle Nezumi while his men split Frankish heads open. Every time he saw one of them, he saw red and had to be intercepted by one of his men before he screwed up their plans. To keep some sense of mind, he let Killer handle their guests until they were ready to leave.

He stayed out of sight, hiding in his workshop with the door barred. Sind was the only company he allowed, and that was only because he caught Nezumi trying to interrogate the poor boy. Sind only answered him by sticking his tongue out, then stomped on the man's foot before sprinting off to hide behind Kid when Nezumi appeared ready to beat him.

He considered sending the boy to stay with Nami, but Nezumi's men had taken to exploring the woods around his old house, hoping to catch a glimpse of this elusive _Ketta_ that Kid was hiding from them. He thought it might raise an alarm if Sind went to stay with her, especially since he had already claimed him as his ward. It would look suspicious if he handed him off to some mysterious woman in the woods and the father that had left Kid bloody and bruised after catching him in bed with her.

He couldn't even visit her, which left him far more irritable than he had already been. He managed to use Gunda as a messenger, under the guise that he was sending her to deliver a gift to Hróarr and _Ketta_ , apologizing for his behavior and making a proper gesture of courtship. Nezumi tittered with that annoying laugh that made Kid want to shove a sword down his throat. Instead of torturing the ass, he spun away and locked himself back in his workshop to demolish a piece of wood while pretending it was Nezumi's face.

But finally he was leaving their shores, though he was taking his sweet time walking to his ship. Kid had come out of hiding for the sole purpose of seeing him off, and every second that it took for Nezumi to casually stroll toward the docks, he felt his patience whittle away.

"It is too bad I did not get to meet this _Ketta_ that created such a commotion," Nezumi said, snickering under his breath as he eyed a wolf carving one of the village craftsmen had displayed on his fence. Kid bristled as he ran a finger over the wolf's ear and gave the piece a look of amused disgust. "So quaint," he commented, but he continued on toward the docks while Kid swallowed his temper and willed his fist to unclench.

 _Enel will torture him mercilessly,_ he thought to himself, taking a deep breath to cool his heated temper. _He's leaving, and then I can have Nami back in my hall where she belongs._ That reminder helped him relax. Everything would be better once he could freely be with his woman again.

"Perhaps after I've met with Enel, I can return and meet her," Nezumi remarked, making Kid's teeth itch. "I'll bring a gift to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials…." He glanced back at him with a mocking smirk. "Assuming her father doesn't kill you first."

Kid growled. "You don't have to," he forced himself to say. If he _did_ come back, he would have his archers ready the moment his ship was spotted in the bay. He would see that not even one of them survived if Enel didn't kill them himself.

"Nonsense." Nezumi waved him off. "It's the least I can do after the gracious hospitality you've shown me."

Kid heard the faint crack of a tooth as he clenched his jaw and cursed Nezumi in his mind. The bastard was making him grind his teeth down to nothing. He really should just kill him.

A familiar clap to his shoulder eased his temper. Killer was there to keep him in line. He took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh.

"If you insist," he grumbled. He would just have to find a woman to stand in Nami's place if Nezumi made good on this threat. _Or kill him_.

"Wonderful," Nezumi cheered, and _finally_ they reached the dock and the Frankish ship loaded with the bastard's men. "I thank you again for your hospitality, even if it has been less than warm," he said as a Norman sailor helped him aboard.

Kid grunted. It was the only sound he trusted himself to make. The lacking response made Nezumi snicker, but he was on his ship, taking a seat beneath that swath of silk that Kid wanted to turn into a fancy noose. He forced himself to remain calm and settled on glaring at the bastard.

Nezumi waved obnoxiously as his men pushed their ship away. He called out an irritating _good-bye_ in Frankish once they were a few feet away. Kid answered it with a rude gesture and spun away to storm back to the hall. Ove stood in the square waiting for him, a horse saddled and ready to go, just as Kid had ordered.

"They're gone," Kid said as he took the horse's reins and gestured for his man to mount the old stallion.

Ove was a big man, with a broad, thickly built torso that made even the strongest horse groan and whiny at the weight. But he was smart and strong enough to take a dozen arrows without slowing down, an unstoppable force that could flatten enemies and stone walls with no discernment. He was a Dane he befriended years ago on the battlefield while fighting for his former jarl. The man had been a mercenary, loyal to the highest bidder until Kid swayed him to join his cause and overthrow the corrupt jarl. Now he was loyal to Kid.

"Stay in the trees and watch them," Kid reminded while Ove hid his intricately braided lavender-tinted blond hair beneath a fur-lined cap. Fur pelts draped over his shoulders made him appear bigger, resembling a bear atop that horse. An axe hung from his belt and two knives were strapped against his chest beneath the furs. He was prepared to battle in a melee if necessary, but for once, Kid wanted him to avoid warfare. "Don't engage them," he warned. "Return once you've seen that they're headed for Oslofjord."

Ove grunted, and Kid released the horse's reins just as his man kicked it to gallop off in a burst of speed. Kid watched until Ove was out of sight, hidden in the trees along the northeastern coast and following the Frankish ship through the fjord. With that errand seen to, Kid headed to the stables to saddle and mount his own horse. Killer had slipped into the hall while he spoke with Ove, but returned just as Kid climbed in the saddle.

"Will you return to the hall tonight?" he asked while securing a leather bag to Kid's saddle.

Kid glowered in thought. "I doubt it. I don't want to bring her back until I know it's safe."

Killer chuckled. "Then tell Nami I say hello. And I'll send Ove to you when he returns."

His cousin smacked his leg and stepped away for him to head toward his old home. Gunda had gone early in the morning with food for Hróarr and Nami, and remained there while they waited for word on Nezumi. He had been tempted to have them return that night. He wanted Nami back in his hall, where he could keep an eye on her and know she was safe, and maybe get her into his bed if he were lucky enough. But if Nezumi resorted to trickery again and returned to Drafn immediately, then Kid didn't want to be caught off guard.

The forest appeared empty of spies as Kid cantered along. He had counted all of Nezumi's men when they were aboard the ship to see that none were left behind, but he remained suspicious. Something didn't sit well with him about that rat. The details of Nami's latest vision were still unknown to him, likely the reason he was so uncertain. What part did the rat play in the coming storm Nami foresaw? What threat did he bring to their shore? It wasn't Arlong. Nami would have mentioned something if it was. At least he thought she would. There was too much mystery surrounding this vision, and he didn't like it. He hated when he didn't know everything. He hated facing down an enemy without at least a minimal amount of information to devise the tactics he needed to be victorious.

Hróarr was outside the house when he arrived, skinning and filleting two fish. The older man glowered at him and set aside the fish he worked on while clutching his knife.

"Stand down," Kid ordered. "They left."

Hróarr visibly relaxed with a loud sigh. He sheathed his knife and stood to help Kid with his horse. The home's door opened slowly as Kid slid from the saddle. Gunda peeked out first, then Nami stuck her head out, careful to keep herself shrouded with a cloak while she hid behind the door.

"It's safe," he called out. The women relaxed and Nami pushed her cloak off so he could clearly see her beautiful, relieved smile. "But, I want you to stay here for the rest of today," he explained as Nami skipped from the house, taking in the first deep breath of fresh air she had had after days of being cooped up in the small home. Her excitement was lost to a frown at the news, but Kid brushed it off as he untied the bag on his saddle. Hróarr walked the horse to the others so he could brush her down and water her, leaving Kid free to drag Nami into a tight hug the moment she was in reach. She returned the embrace, but propped her chin on his chest to glower up at him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I sent Ove to follow the ship and see they do head toward Oslofjord. He should return by tonight or tomorrow morning to report their movements to me," he said.

"And if they don't go to Oslo?"

He frowned. "If they turn south, I'll assume that they're reporting to Arlong… Or maybe he'll take the coward's way out and flee to Francia so he doesn't have to face Enel. We'll prepare for him to return with Arlong." She swallowed thickly, fear flashing in her eyes. He grinned confidently and squeezed her tight. "Don't worry about that. If Arlong comes with him, I'll send you away with Gunda and Hróarr. You can hide in the mountains, or buy passage on a ship to Álasund. Iceburg offered you asylum if anything happens to me here. You'll be safe up there." His reassurance only made her frown deepen as sadness turned her eyes watery. She really would mourn his inevitable death, but he wouldn't let her mourn him while he lived. "But, I doubt he'll go to Arlong first. If he doesn't turn for Oslo, he'll likely turn back in the hope of catching us by surprise, with you out of hiding. I won't let that rat outsmart us. If his ship turns back for us, we'll be prepared to kill them all before they reach the bay."

Nami took a deep breath and he felt her shoulders relax as she released it. A shaky smile turned up her lips. "Then I'll stay here until we know," she said.

"Good girl." His praise was met with a withering glare, making him laugh as he pushed her toward the house. "While we're waiting on Ove, we have some things to discuss. I need to hear the details about this storm you've seen."

Nami huffed and stood her ground when he nudged her toward the door again. He didn't know what her sulky pout could be for. Did she not want to discuss her visions?

"Do we have to go back inside?" she whined. "I've been cooped up in there for days now. I want to be _outside_."

Kid chuckled. "But the bed is _inside_ , and I have other things I want to discuss with you. Preferably without clothes on."

She glared, her arms crossing over her chest. Her defiant stance said she was not about to humor his jest. " _Lech_ ," she growled.

"I'm kidding," he reassured before turning toward the entrance to the property. He tied the bag he brought to his belt, then laughed again. "We don't need a bed for that, anyway." He glanced over his shoulder, winking when he caught her eyes narrowing further. "Well? You coming along?"

She let out another huff, grumbled something under her breath, and then stomped after him. Gunda looked ready to follow her, but Kid glared at the older woman and waved for her to stay at the house. He hadn't seen Nami in days. He wanted time alone with her, and not just out of the hope he could pleasure her again.

"Where are we going?" Nami asked as he led her down the path toward the trickling stream.

"You'll see." He could hear the roll of her eyes when she sighed and slowed for her catch up so he could wrap his arm around her shoulder. "What's with the attitude today, Kitten?" He was trying not to take it personally, but if she continued to snip at him for nothing more than teasing her, he was liable to get annoyed and start bickering with her. "Would have thought you'd miss me and want to spend some quality time alone."

Nami glared up at him. He didn't wink, didn't give her any clue that he might be flirting, only stared back with a curious scowl. Her irritation withered with a resigned sigh and her shoulders relaxed under his arm.

"I'm just frustrated," she answered as she sank against his side. He grunted to encourage she elaborate. "I did miss you, but I was hoping that the days apart would help me focus on my visions of the storm." She frowned at him. "You can be a distraction."

"I take it the distance didn't help?" he grunted.

"No." She fidgeted, casting her gaze down as her cheeks tinged with pink. "I think it made it worse."

His brow shot up. "Oh? How so?"

Nami pursed her lips in a scowl while her blush deepened. He couldn't help but laugh at her. "It's not funny," she snapped. "Every day I tried to concentrate, to meditate, to do _anything_ that might bring my vision into clarity, but my mind never failed to drift to…" She trailed off to purse her lips again and looked away. She squirmed and tried to pull free of his hold, but he kept her locked tight at his side as they walked. "I couldn't even conjure the vision of Yggdrasil. Only of you touching me."

He knew he shouldn't be so proud that he affected her so strongly, but the fact he had spent the last few nights plagued with dreams of her that felt so real he woke in agony, desperate for her touch, it was a relief to know she was in a similar state of misery. He could understand her frustration, though. She needed answers as much as he did, and if she couldn't use her magic and foresight freely, those answers would stay out of their reach. He didn't want to lose the progress they had made, but if the physical relationship he had forged with her stood in the way of altering their fate, then he knew he would have to pull back. He hated that that might be the case, but he wouldn't hold her back from her full potential with his selfish desires.

With a heavy sigh, he took his arm from her shoulder and sped up his pace. "Come on," he said while taking her by the hand to drag her along with him. "We're almost there."

Nami had to pick up her skirts and jog to keep up with his pace as he climbed up into the hills to the north of the river. He led her through the old forest, beneath trees growing from rich soil, until he could hear the rushing current of the river ahead. He slowed once he spotted the grassy knoll overlooking the river with another mighty oak that had grown in a knotted, twisted fashion that bent over the river. Its roots ran deep, but the ground around two large tangles of root had eroded away at the bank, creating a nook perfect for a child to hide in when the river wasn't swollen.

When he came to a stop beside the oak, he glanced back to see Nami smiling as she overlooked the river. She took another deep breath. "Pretty," she commented, her earlier sour mood vanished.

"I used to play here when I was child," he explained, pointing toward the gnarled roots. "Nearly drowned while hiding down there during a storm. River almost carried me away, but Killer swam after me and dragged me out."

Nami giggled at the story as she tucked her skirts in and lowered herself to the grass. "He's been keeping you out of trouble for a long time."

He huffed before falling to sit beside her. "We're family. It's what we do."

There was something off about her smile as she cast her gaze over the river. A sadness tinged her eyes, her lips quivered. He knew she was thinking about her mother, or the shieldmaiden that raised her. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over her ear and chuckled when the touch made her jump. The glare she sent him wasn't as heated as it could be, at least it wasn't heated with anger. There was a glimmer of desire that showed through when her eyes flit to his lips.

"When you look sad like that, it makes me glad that I'm such a distraction to you," he teased before stealing a quick peck. "Now tell me about your vision," he ordered. "Or do I need to distract you some more?"

She glowered at him and swatted his leg, then turned her face away in a failed attempt to hide her blush.

"As I said, there isn't much to the vision," she began. "It came in flashes during the storm. First there was a ship with rats in a fjord."

"And that was Nezumi?"

Nami nodded. "And then there was a golden spear in its place in the water."

"Gungnir? Odin's spear?" he asked.

"I don't know," she groaned. "I don't think so. It was gone in a flash and replaced with a man standing on the end of the dock overlooking the fjord with his back to me. He was too young to be Odin, so I doubt he's connected to him. The only detail I could make out of him was the gold he wore."

Kid snorted. Of course she would see the gold and nothing else. His amusement drew a glare from her before she huffed and looked out at the river in front of them.

"I know what you're thinking," she bit out. "I wasn't distracted by the gold. I saw him in my vision of Yggdrasil when I returned to camp, and I still couldn't make out his face, only the gold he wore. I do know that he's likely a seer because of that vision. He was at home in the tree, far more comfortable than I was, and staring at the same storm I saw on the horizon. That's about all that I've gleaned on him."

Kid wondered about that detail. A man clad in gold, with a gift of foresight – he had a feeling that he might know who this man was. The king in Oslo claimed that gift for himself, though Kid had his doubts. The man was mad with power, nothing more. But, he did love gold in his own twisted way, and favored the god Thor in his worship. Nami was given the vision in the middle of a storm and swore Thor might have been warning her. The connections were piling up, which meant sending Nezumi to Enel might truly be the catalyst of what was to come.

Damn it, he should have killed the rat when he had the chance.

"What else did you see?" he asked with a low growl. If Nami noticed the frustration in his tone, she didn't respond to it, merely sighed and drew her knees to her chest.

"The man vanished where he stood on the dock and I saw the spear in the water again. All around the spear, the water roiled as fish and whale carcasses floated to the surface." She paused and fidgeted beside him, drawing his gaze to see her chewing on her lip. "And then with the next flash, I saw you."

His brow rose at the faint blush blooming on her cheeks. "The wolf again?" he asked.

Her teeth dug into her lip until the pink flesh turned bright red and threatened to break. "No," she said quietly. "You were not a wolf in my last vision." Both brows shot up and he leaned closer, quietly encouraging her to continue. "You stood before me as a man," she explained, casting a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye before looking away again. "You were close…. Touching me… My face… My lips… I thought you were going to kiss me." She cleared her throat and squirmed where she sat again. Now he understood why she was having trouble concentrating on her vision – she was too distracted by their physical relationship to focus on anything else. "But then I closed my eyes and tasted blood on my lips. When I opened them again, blood was trailing down your face. And then you were gone and I was awake."

"So, you think this path might lead to my death?" he asked, trying to make sense of the end of her vision.

Nami's lips pursed in a thoughtful scowl, her brows pinching together as she glared at the water. "I don't know… Possibly, but…" She looked to him, her scowl turning into a confused pout. "The vision didn't scare me the way my dreams had before. In my dreams, when you're a wolf, dying at the feet of a giant, it feels like my whole world is being torn away. I'm not physically hurt, but it's the greatest pain I've ever known." She had told him before that his death would not be easy on her, that it would hurt her deeply, and as she said it again, he could see the pain in her watery eyes. "But this last vision, I felt nothing. No fear. No heartache. My emotions were completely disconnected from it. I truly have no idea if the danger for you is mortal. I _don't know_. And I hate that."

Sighing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. "I know how you feel," he said.

"I thought I hated the visions I had before, but this one… not knowing what it might mean, what course I'm supposed to take or what I'm supposed to change… It's even worse than actually knowing exactly what lies ahead. How am I supposed to alter our path if I don't know what lies ahead?" She turned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, taking the comfort he offered. "I feel lost."

With her uncanny sense of direction, he imagined that wasn't a pleasant feeling for her. His instinct told him to fix this for her, but he was as lost as she was. How could he fix something he couldn't see? All he could do was provide some clues from his own knowledge and see if that helped. He wished he had better to offer her, but he felt useless, and that was a feeling he hated most of all. It made him angry, but he had nothing to take his anger out on before him.

"I think the man you saw was Enel," he said. Better to focus on what he could do than fly into a rage over what he couldn't. "I've heard rumors that he shares a similar gift of foresight. He venerates Thor, too. I'm not sure what interest he might have in you, though. I can see him making a grab at part of my territory, but I don't know what that might have to do with you."

"You said Nezumi was going to see Enel, right?" she asked, tilting her head to gaze up at him. "What if he succeeds in gaining his support? He might come for me as a favor to Arlong."

"I still doubt he would go so far. Nezumi said he had a chest of gold to offer up for you, and Enel loves gold. But, he'd just as easily kill Nezumi and take his gold rather than go through the trouble of searching for you to earn it honestly. To grant a favor to some unknown jarl would be beneath him," Kid reasoned, but he would be prepared for a war with the self-proclaimed king. His gaze flit to Nami's lips as he considered that possible future. He still needed more answers, a direction to take. He needed Nami to be focused, though he didn't like the idea of slowing down his courtship with her, not with how far they had already come. "I'll try not to distract you," he forced himself to say with an unhappy grumble. "If that would help."

"Are you volunteering to let yourself suffer in abstinence again?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

Kid huffed. "I said I would _try_." He leaned down to steal a hard peck. "But I can only restrain myself so much. You'll have to behave, too."

Nami rolled her eyes. "You're the one who starts it."

"I didn't start anything that night in your bed," he pointed out. "You're the one who asked me to seduce you with that stupid poetry."

She snorted. "I suppose that's true, but you still start most of it."

"You also seduced me in England," he added.

"I was trying to teach you a lesson for propositioning me like that," she said with another roll of her eyes. " _You_ seduced _me."_

"You still started it. I just finished it." He kissed her again, then forced himself to lean away. "But, as I said, I'll try not to tempt you anymore, at least not until we know what's ahead."

She smiled bright. "Thank you." He grunted, still unhappy with that decision, but he would do whatever was necessary to win the battles ahead. Nami ignored his annoyance and peered down at the bag attached to his belt. "By the way, what's in that bag you brought?"

He straightened at the reminder and untied the bag. "It's another gift."

Nami lit up with excitement before he even pulled it out. She knew it wouldn't be gold, yet still she looked as happy as she would be receiving a massive treasure hoard. The fact she would liken the gifts he made for her to a pile of gold pleased him to no end.

"I spent the last few days locked in my workshop, so had plenty of time to work on this," he explained while pulling out the falcon he carved from birch. It stood tall with its wings folded over its breast, just beneath its carved face. He didn't paint it like he had the boar, but he smoothed and polished it so its feathers appeared with the light and dark browns a falcon wore.

Nami beamed as she took the gift from him to inspect. "This is perfect," she said, grinning up at him. "I can already tell it'll be well received by the gods."

He openly gloated at her praise, even more so when she leaned up to kiss his cheek in gratitude. He would have to think hard on her next gift, unsure what he might be able to create that could garner a better reaction. Probably something made of gold. Since he had no other plans for that day, he would have plenty of time to think on it while enjoying Nami's company. Maybe she would give him a hint.

"Let's stay here a while longer," he suggested, stretching back in the fragrant grass. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky. He could laze in the sun all day, listening to the river flow toward the bay with Nami tucked against his side.

Nami smiled, agreeing without argument. She laid back to rest her head on his chest, nestling into the crook of his arm perfectly. Having her at his side, warm and comfortable, made everything right in the world once again. He didn't have to think about a looming storm or war or death or whatever fate thought to throw at them. All he needed to think on was how to make the woman he loved happy. Nothing else was more important to him than that.

* * *

Ove didn't return until the next morning, but when he did, he brought Sind along with him to report what he saw to Kid. Nami giggled at the boy swinging on Ove's outstretched arm with playful laughter, all while the big bear of a man stood there without a care in the world, letting the child have his fun. Nami hadn't seen anyone other than Gunda and Hróarr for days until Kid came to visit, so it was nice to see more friendly faces and nearly distracted her from the levity of the matter.

"They met with another ship," Ove informed them, forcing Nami to focus on the conversation.

Kid sat by the fire, scowling over the breakfast he had only just woken to eat. He had spent the night on the floor beside the bed, leaning against the frame at her side. He woke grumpier than usual from his stiff posture and knotted neck, and barely managed to grunt a thank you when Nami handed him a bowl of porridge. The news Ove was giving him only seemed to make his mood worsen as his brows knit together with a glare.

"Frankish or Norse?" Kid asked.

"Norse. Crewed by only fifteen men."

"Meager," Kid grumbled thoughtfully. "Nothing more than a search party."

Ove nodded. "They looked to be captained by a tall, slender man with blond hair and a pursed expression."

Nami sat straight at Kid's side. "Chew," she said, drawing Kid's attention to her.

"One of Arlong's?" he asked quietly.

"One of his closest sworn brothers," she answered, nodding. "He frequently runs errands for Arlong and is responsible for maintaining what few trade agreements they have."

"So, he works regularly with Nezumi." Kid huffed and turned to Ove. "I take it they didn't turn back. You didn't return in a panic."

Ove shook his head. "They both went up Oslofjord."

Kid hummed. "Then that means Nezumi requested an escort. He really is wary of Enel." He sighed and went back to eating his breakfast. "Well, so be it. They'll hopefully be dealt with by that mad-man and leave us alone for a while longer."

"But if they're suspicious and return after meeting with Enel? What if Enel does have foresight and sees that I'm here? They might all come for me," Nami reasoned.

Kid glared at her. "Then we'll deal with it. I doubt Enel will get his hands dirty over a stranger, even if she does share similar gifts of magic. He has bigger things in his head. If we don't get in his way, he won't get in ours. Nezumi's men looked weak, and we can handle a small search party. Even if it is made up of giants."

"Giants?" Sind asked, dropping from Ove's arm to gape at them. "There are giants coming here?"

Kid rolled his eyes. "Your lord back in England was a giant. What are you getting all excited about?"

"But he was…" Sind paused to think of what word he needed. "Nice? Are these giants nice?"

"No, they're not," Kid growled. "If they come, you're not going anywhere near them." He glanced at Nami. "You can stay with her. Gunda and Hróarr will flee with her, take her to safety somewhere else. I don't want you near the village if they attack." He looked at her with a deep frown and silent warning in his gaze. "We'll prepare to sink their ships before they reach us, but if war breaks out, you get far away, _fast_. Go to Álasund first. If we defeat these men, I'll search you out so you can return home. I don't want you vanishing on me."

"I won't leave you," she reassured, nudging his side. "This is my home now. I'll always come back."

Kid's surly mood vanished at her words, his face splitting with a wide grin as he nudged her back. "I'm holding you to that."

After the argument they had days before, she knew hearing that was a relief for him. Saying that Kid's hall was her home now wasn't something she expected to happen, but knowing that she had a place to return to, with people that opened their arms to welcome her, made her feel safe. She was being honest. If she ever had to leave, she would do everything in her power to return. Drafn was her home.

"We'll return to the hall after we eat," Kid said to Ove, gesturing for him to sit and join them. "We need to revise our patrols, build fortifications further out in the fjord, with archers on guard. We should have plenty of oil from Álasund to use as pitch and set their ships ablaze if they come."

Nami's attention drifted away from their talk of strategy. She wanted to share Kid's hope that this mad king would deal with Nezumi and Chew for them, but doubt twisted in her gut. A shadow loomed at the edge of her mind and she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that someone was watching her. While Nezumi's men were lurking in the woods, she had been able to brush the paranoia off, assume it was only the spies. But now they were gone and still she felt a tingle creep over the back of her neck, making her hairs stand on end.

Her gaze fell to the figure Kid had carved for her. It sat on a low table, right where she left it the night before, watching over the room. When she looked at its hollow eyes, that shiver returned, as did that odd, familiar buzz of a fly.

A vision flashed before her in the blink of an eye. A falcon's wing flapping, then vanishing in a flurry of feathers. The shadow loomed at her back, close enough to feel breath on her neck.

"Nami?" Kid asked, snapping her from the momentary vision to see him staring at her in scrutiny.

She shook her head, clearing the lingering anxiety and paranoia. "I'm fine," she assured him with a smile. "Just lost in thought."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't push the subject. She knew that she should tell him what she saw, but it made as little sense as her other visions had of late. She truly was at a loss of where to go, what her visions meant. Though, she suspected she knew who loomed over her shoulder.

She had a feeling the falcon statue was a more apt gift than either of them suspected. Because the fly was clad in a feathered cloak and she could only hope he was there to help.

* * *

 _Oslo_

He had been lounging on a fallen log near his temporary home when he saw the ships enter the bay. It had been a lazy few days for him with nothing of interest to keep him entertained, but the sight of a Frankish ship surely promised to steal him from boredom. He wondered about the Norse ship accompanying it. Was the ship captured and brought to the king for trespassing in foreign waters? Was the ship stolen and crewed by Northmen? If it truly were Frankish men, then what were they doing in that fjord? Did they not know the dangers lurking for Christian men?

When he heard the bellowing horns echo off the hills around the bay, he hurried to grab his cloak and make his way to the village. McKinley would greet the unexpected guests and _Corazon_ was curious if they would be welcomed as he was. He would have to take care not to be seen by any Frankish men lest they recognize him or know those he meant to injure in the near future. He couldn't have them warning anyone of his presence in the north.

He reached the main square in time to see one wiry little man disembark the Frankish ship while a couple of men heads taller than he climbed from the Norse ship. As he slipped closer, keeping to the shadows with his head down, he spied the flags of the ship signaling who they belonged to. A rat decorated one flag, a fish of some sort the other. Enel said the storm would bring rats and dead fish. The fish were alive, but he wondered for how long.

Enel would invite these men into his hall, if only to question them and learn what connection they had with this storm he foresaw. The king had been mute to him since he told of the amber haired woman and her ravenous guardian. _Corazon_ took no offense to the silence, wholly welcomed it as he remained at his borrowed home and minded his own business. Enel would find him when he needed to, or, in the case of these guests, _Corazon_ would make his own way to the king's hall to eavesdrop on the conversation.

He passed Enel on his way to the hall. The king had stepped out to greet the newcomers, likely seeing their connection to the storm, just as he had for _Corazon_.

"Rats and fish," he muttered to the king as he passed through the fortress gates, knowing he would not have to speak loudly for the man to hear. Enel slanted his gaze to him, frowning stoically as _Corazon_ chuckled. "I wonder when the wolf will come?"

Enel said nothing as _Corazon_ walked away, aiming for the hall's entrance. The lack of rebuke meant he could enter and listen to the meeting, so he ignored the grumbled protests of Enel's priests as he walked into the main room. He wouldn't have listened to them, regardless, but the fact he had permission meant their opinions were of even less import to him. They had nothing to complain about, anyway. He would stick to the shadows on the walkway above. They wouldn't even know he was there.

He made himself comfortable hidden in the rafters with a view of the hall and Enel's dais below. He kept his cloak tucked around him, his hood up to hide his face, and melted into the shadows where the fire-lit gold cast no light. He watched the priests mutter among themselves, wondering about the new arrivals, as well as his presence in the hall, before standing to greet their king and his guests with more civility than they had greeted him.

That was surprising. They were not supposed to be welcoming of Christians. Or so he thought until he noticed McKinley trudge in with another soldier, hauling a massive chest between them. They set it down with an unceremonious _thunk_ and exhausted groan. He could hear the clatter of coins rattling inside and wasn't surprised when they pried the lid open to reveal a large hoard of gold.

"Splendid," Enel called out with a grin as he sauntered toward his throne. "Chew, your jarl is a very thoughtful man, if I must say. If only more people thought to come to me prepared with such gifts."

 _Corazon_ snorted in amusement when he caught a flicker of Enel's gaze cast toward his spot in the rafters. He wasn't there to indulge the god-king's delusions and greed. He was there for a purpose all his own.

"Though, I wonder about the company you svear are keeping," Enel continued as he propped his feet on the arm of his chair. _Corazon_ peered down between swaths of silk and gold to see the men filing in to the tables in front of the dais. He spotted a tall blond man leading the way, his lips pursed in a tight frown that made his thin face appear almost gaunt. _Corazon_ supposed that was the one Enel called Chew. The man walking in behind him was clad in rich silks and velvet, styled as a Frankish lord might wear. He was small in comparison to the blond, with twitchy whiskers growing sparsely on his face. "I am not inclined to entertain Christians, no matter how much gold they bring me."

"As we have been informed," the blond said with a tired sigh as he took a seat. "But these Christians have their uses to us."

"And what uses would those be?" Enel asked, eyeing the Frankish man suspiciously before dismissing him in favor of the blond he addressed.

"These past two months we have been tirelessly searching for a woman who has fled my jarl's care," the blond explained. "Nezumi has been a great asset for us in seeking her out. He has learned that the woman we seek might have come to your territory."

"This woman's name?" Enel asked while looking bored with the conversation already. _Corazon's_ curiosity, on the other hand, was piqued.

"Her name is Nami, though she might have given a false name if she means to hide from us. She is a woman of nearly nineteen years, with amber hair," the blond answered.

Enel's gaze flit up again and _Corazon_ caught a hint of a smile. This woman was quite popular to have more men searching for her, but he supposed he shouldn't be so surprised. The druid had mentioned her fleeing some plight.

Enel let his feet fall to the floor and leaned forward, elbows perched on his knees as he scrutinized Chew and his companions. "I have not seen this woman for myself, but I have heard a tale or two of her. Little more than passing wonder and curiosity. Why do you believe she is with me?"

Chew shifted where he sat, a sign of unease. "She is gifted," he answered. "Such as you are. We thought she might have sought one of her own."

Enel's brow rose and he straightened in his chair. "Gifted with foresight? How intriguing. And her name is Nami? That is a strange name… not of these lands."

"It is from the far east, borrowed from their people. She is named for the waves, just as her mother had been, and her mother before her, and so on. A tribute to their matriarch, Rán," Chew explained.

Enel's smile widened, excitement sparked in his eye. That look of interest hadn't been there when _Corazon_ spoke of the woman, but this was all news to him, as well. He knew she was important to the gods for some reason, but apparently her value surpassed his own expectations. He knew little of Rán, only that she was a goddess, or a giantess of some sort, that ruled over the depths of the sea.

"She is from _Västerås?_ " Enel asked.

Chew answered with a reluctant nod. "I understand your family once came from Birka, not far from there."

Enel sank back into his plush throne with his grin. "That we did. My great-great-grandfather was once a loyal ally to the _Västerås_ clan. He sadly fell to their curse and was executed while the remainder of my clan was exiled." Chew's frame turned rigid and the room grew tense. But Enel dismissed the unease with a loud laugh and waved for the guests to relax. "I hold no grudge against this woman for the actions of her predecessors. She was not alive, after all. And my family knew the consequences if one of their own was chosen to father the next daughter, that my grandfather was doomed to die if he was not deemed worthy by the gods. His sacrifice proved a blessing to me for _I_ was chosen worthy enough to be king." He gestured around his hall with his arrogant grin. "And the child he fathered with his wife after laying with the sea-witch was given a blessing that I now hold – the same foresight that the _Västerås_ clan claims as their own."

As the tension in the room eased, Chew released the grip he had on his sword. "If you hold no grudge against the clan, then perhaps you could lend us your support. My jarl is a son of Aegir and cherishes Nami dearly, as he would his own family. The gods brought us to her to protect her now that she has no family left. It is imperative she returns to Arlong's hall quickly, before she falls into danger."

"I understand," Enel said, his smile relaxing. "But, as I said, I have not seen this woman... this distant cousin of mine. If she meant to seek me out, she never made it this far. I am afraid she is lost to you."

"I believe we know where she is," the twitchy Frankish man called Nezumi spoke up. He flinched when Enel's whole gaze landed on him, the king scowling at the interruption. Nezumi tittered with an annoying, nervous laugh, but gathered his courage to speak. "We searched many villages along both the coast of Svealand and Noreg, meeting at the juncture between Oslofjord and Drafnsfjord. The jarl of the last village I visited was a peculiar sort. He was hiding a woman he called _Ketta_ , supposedly the daughter of one of his men. He claimed to be lusting after her, but had her hidden in his hall before she slipped away, and then he made off to see her in the night. He returned as a man should after a father catches him bedding his daughter, but I found it suspicious how adamantly he refused to let me see this woman for myself. Her father didn't even return to the hall, though one of their servant women regularly brought the family gifts of food as an apology from the jarl. I sent my spies to watch the man's house, to see if they could catch a glimpse of her, but she rarely left the house and always kept herself shrouded in a ratty old cloak, with her hair carefully hidden."

"Arlong always likened Nami to a cat," Chew explained. "When Nezumi reported this oddity to me, it did strike me as suspicious, but since the jarl had claimed to see the girl further south before she vanished, with the purpose of going north, to Oslo, and voiced animosity over an apparent theft she made, I had my doubts. Men are often protective of the women in their lives. The jarl of his lover, the father of his daughter. But seeing that Nami is not here, that leads me to believe Nezumi's suspicions are correct."

"If you believe that this is where she is hidden, then why do you need my aid? You can fetch her yourselves," Enel pointed out.

"They will be expecting us," Chew stated. "If this jarl is indeed hiding her, he will not welcome Nezumi a second time. Nami knows who Nezumi is; if he returns, they will be ready. And if I return with them, it will be the same."

"So, you wish for me to fetch her for you?"

"You will be given great gifts in exchange," Chew said, nodding. "And when Jarl Arlong has made his mark in Normandy, he will become a great friend to you."

Enel stroked his chin in thought, his gaze boring into the men in front of him before casting up to the rafters. "Tell me, the jarl you believe is hiding her… Does he have hair as red as blood?"

"That he does," Nezumi answered. "His name is Jarl Eustass of Drafn."

"Drafn…" Enel chuckled. "We have found our wolf," he said to _Corazon_ , then looked back at his confused guests. "As I said, I have heard a tale or two of her, and one such tale mentioned her in the company of a vicious wolf with blood red hair. I believe your suspicions are more than correct. Jarl Eustass has your lady and has been witnessed acting as a very fierce guardian. He will murder you all before you even lay eyes on Lady Nami."

"Then I'll inform Jarl Arlong. We'll gather our forces. A single wolf is no match for a giant," Chew said.

"You will not be facing a single wolf. You will be facing a pack," Enel stated. "Though I suppose an army of giants could destroy them all the same, I would still be guarded if I were you. Wolves are dangerous and unpredictable, especially when protecting their own."

"She is not theirs to keep," Chew growled. "She belongs to Arlong and no one else."

Enel's eyes narrowed on him. "According to my family's stories, she belongs to _no one_ but the gods." He waved off the man's next retort. "But far be it for me to sway you from that opinion. Perhaps the gods have changed their minds. They tend to do that when it suits them. As for this wolf, I believe I can help you. I have had it in my mind to seize some of his territory that neighbors my own. I need the timber for a ship I'm constructing, so it would suit my own purposes to see him toppled. I will take care of him and fetch the girl."

"Truly?" Chew asked, wisely suspicious of Enel's generosity.

Enel smiled. " _Truly_. All I ask is that you remain as guests in my village while I deal with Jarl Eustass, and in five days I will bring Lady Nami here."

Chew sat quietly, Enel's offer still sinking in. After a moment, he bowed his head. "Jarl Arlong and our whole clan will be in your debt, then," he said, his voice thick with a growl. He didn't like being in debt to this king, or perhaps he knew his jarl would not be pleased with it. But if this woman was so valuable to them, then no debt would be too large.

Enel chuckled. "Please, there will be no debt. In fact, you have done me a great favor in coming to me. I could not possibly expect anything more in return." The king's smile was forced, but if his guests noticed, they wisely made no mention of it. Enel turned to one of his priests. "Ohm, gather a small force and ride southwest to spy on Drafn. Scout the region and Eustass' forces, then return in two days with your information."

Ohm stood and bowed his bald head toward his king. "It will be done," he said as he tucked his long sword into place on his white leather belt. He was one of Enel's strongest warriors. He was quiet and stern, but _Corazon_ had often heard him bickering with his fellow priests when Enel was not around. Whatever they fought about, _Corazon_ didn't care, but he made a note of the discord within Enel's ranks. It hadn't done anything to weaken them, but he might find a use for it in the future if he needed to escape with the amber-haired woman.

He watched as Ohm grabbed a grey cloak to throw over his green tunic and tan trousers. It had been weeks since he last saw the woman, and he found himself curious to see her again, before she was dragged to Oslo against her will.

"I'll join him," he called down, shifting on his perch to leap down to the floor below. The guests jumped in surprise and turned in their seats to look at him. He kept his hood up, his head down, and only let them see a sliver of his smile. "I wish to see this woman that is so cherished for myself."

Enel chuckled. "Go, then. But don't get in Ohm's way, Corazon."

He nodded in understanding and made to follow the priest out, ignoring the surly scowl Ohm gave him. Even if Enel refused to let him go, he would have followed them, anyway. He wanted to see that it was the same woman, and it would never hurt to see the people that were currently caring for her. Depending on the paths ahead for her, those wolves she lived with might be of use to him in the future, assuming any of them survived Enel's forces.

A good trickster would always take care to have multiple pawns on the board and a few more up his sleeve. And what better pawn to have in a war than a ravenous wolf?

* * *

Nami's frustration was worsening. She had been back in Kid's hall for two days, with no new visions, no new answers, no new course to consider. The unnerving sensation of being watched only grew, with the shadow at her back looming closer, as though waiting expectantly for something to happen.

When she voiced her worries to Kid, he acted instantly. Patrols were increased, his men swept the forest night and day. They found nothing that seemed out of the ordinary to them, though Halle reported a set of footprints further east. There was no sign of who they might belong to, though, so they assumed it was another villager that went foraging in a nearby cloudberry patch.

She thought she might lose her mind if nothing came to her. What if she was right before? What if the tales of her family were nothing but superstition? Maybe her dreams and visions were a coincidence. Maybe she had no gifts and she was putting these people in danger for nothing.

She couldn't stand to think that the gods were sacrificing these people for someone so worthless, for a prophecy she couldn't fulfill. So, she threw herself into work. She had nothing else to distract her, not with Kid carefully keeping his distance. He showed her affection sparingly since they discussed slowing their courtship. A kiss to the temple before going to separate beds was the most she received, though it was enough to make her desire more. She was beginning to understand why Kid was so miserable at the thought of abstaining before. The more she knew of what his touch could bring, the more she hated being without.

She decided that if she worked hard enough during the day, she'd be too tired to give more than a passing thought to her desires at night. The first day back in his hall, she busied herself with Sind's clothing until Ingrid sent her granddaughter to the hall to get her out of the house. Ingvild was full of energy and driving the old woman out of her head, so it was up to Nami to give the girl something to do and hopefully give her grandmother a break. She ended up exhausting herself after chasing the girl around the hall and square before she corralled her long enough to get her help with the mending.

That first night she had been too tired to focus on her meditation, but still she tried. She needed to see the storm before it was bearing down on them. The only vision she received was a flickering flash of lightning far off in the distance, out of her reach, and then nothing. She was too distracted by the ache in her shoulders and neck, and the heavy weight in her eyes pulling her toward sleep. To make it worse, she was desperate for comfort, but all she received was a warm hug and chaste kiss before Kid ordered her to bed.

Now she had spent most of her day helping with the wash. The hall was crowded with Kid's men and servants, all working around tubs of water to scrub their laundry. Nami and Gunda were rushing back and forth with buckets of fresh water, or taking washed clothes to hang on lines outside. The men that weren't helping with the wash were all in the bathhouse, cleaning themselves.

She hadn't seen Kid since breakfast, so she assumed he was in the bathhouse, but near midday, she spied him at the blacksmith's with Sind at his side. As she passed by the smithy's open doors, she spotted Sind at the bellows with Kid barking complaints at the boy while the blacksmith sat back, watching and laughing at the two attempting to help with the work. She and Gunda stopped to watch, curious what they were up to. Kid often helped the blacksmith when time allowed, or when he was in desperate need of nails and rivets for his ship but the smith was too busy with other orders to see to his first.

Kid was a builder to his core, a man who loved to craft things from any material he could. Shipbuilding was where he held his pride and having a passing knowledge of smith work helped him construct his ships faster, with his blood and sweat going into more than the boards and hull, but into every rivet and bracket that helped brace the wood together. If he needed to, he could even fashion a decent axe, though he would admit that his smith was more skilled at forging weapons and chainmail, particularly the intricate designs the smith might etch into the flat of a blade.

"More air," Kid hollered at Sind. "What did I tell you? Don't slow down," he growled before yanking a glowing iron rod from the hearth. "Damn it," he snarled as he set the iron on the anvil and began to hammer at the rod.

"It's fine, Jarl Eustass," the blacksmith said, chuckling. "He's not doing terribly for his first time at the bellows. If I remember correctly, you weren't that talented at it, either."

"Shut it," Kid growled between hammer strikes.

The blacksmith took no offense to his foul mood. "You're more suited to the hammering, anyway. I always felt you were imagining the former jarl's face when you struck the iron."

Kid stopped hammering to grin back at him. "No, I was picturing his sons."

That had the blacksmith clutching his stomach as his laughter carried over the last few hammer strikes. "No wonder your nails always came out so flat and broken when you were younger."

Kid chuckled as he stuck the hammered iron back into the hearth and hollered at the boy to keep the air moving. "If there's smoke, you're doing it wrong," Kid said until finally the smoke cleared, leaving only a bright blaze. "That's it. Good." He yanked the iron back out to continue hammering, this time pleased with the boy's work.

As far as she could tell, he was almost done with another nail. A bucket sat near the door, filled with new iron nails. So, she watched until he was finished cutting the nail off the iron rod and hammering the end into a head. Once it was ready to be added to the rest, he turned to toss it into the bucket but froze when he saw her.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, dropping the nail in with the others.

"Since you were yelling at Sind for doing his job wrong," she said, snickering at him

"You'll have to be more specific, I've been yelling at him all day." Kid snorted and turned to regard the blacksmith as he took off the thick leather gloves that protected his hands from the heated metal. "I'm going to take a break," he said, then came out to lean against the doorframe to talk to her.

Kid took a deep breath of fresh air and rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue tunic, revealing his strong forearms, the skin reddened from the fire and slick with sweat. She couldn't even begin to fathom why that caught her eye, or why it made her want to touch him. She fought off images of him without his tunic on, looking far more exhausted than he did now, with sweat drenched hair clinging to his face, and those strong arms wrapped around her, clutching her against his heated body.

"What are you ladies doing?" Kid asked, snapping her from wandering thoughts.

"The wash," Nami said, shaking away the last images and forcing a smile as she looked up at him. "You and Sind need to take a bath later. Most of the men have already had theirs."

He waved her comment off. "When we're done here," he promised, then grinned at her lecherously. "You're welcome to join me."

She glowered at him. Kid only chuckled at her response, so she dipped her hand into the bucket of water she held, and splashed some onto his face. His grin widened as he wiped the water off.

"I'd say I'm teasing, but you truly are welcome," he said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and chose to ignore him, instead asking, "So, you're helping the smith today?"

"That rat bastard used up the nails I had left for his repairs and I have projects around the hall that need them. And, thought it might not be a bad idea to have Sind start learning a craft," Kid explained.

"I'm certain you put a lot of thought into that and didn't just pick this craft because of his father's name," she teased.

Kid grinned. "No, that's exactly why I picked it."

Nami laughed. "Well, be nice to him. He's still a boy, you don't have to curse at him if he does something wrong."

"He can handle it," he said, brushing her concern off.

She dipped her hand into the bucket and flit more water in his face. "You took him in, at least try to show him some kindness."

He scowled at her as he wiped a drop of water from his eye. "I do show him some kindness, but I'm not going to coddle the boy. When we teach him how to wield an axe or sword, he won't be treated softly."

"That's different," she insisted.

"No, it's not. You know what sort of abuse that old smith has received in the past? He was never treated kindly when a commission wasn't finished just right, 'specially by my predecessor. But he learned to take the abuse without a care, and not back down when he was owed fair compensation. Any craft the boy picks up to make extra coin will see him scrutinized over every minute detail. He'll have to tolerate shitty attitudes and getting yelled at, but if he learns to take it all with a stony expression, then he can't be taken advantage of," Kid explained.

Nami had no argument against that, and a quick peek at Sind told her that he wasn't upset, even as the blacksmith yelled at him as they worked together. Kid followed her gaze and snorted in amusement.

"Saw the brat getting yelled at by a monk in England and he hardly flinched. He's stronger than he looks, Nami. You don't have to coddle him," Kid said, turning her attention to his reassuring smile. "I think he's happier being yelled at over this, too. He really hated pulling weeds. He's been eager to learn woodwork and he got excited when I told him he could help me here today. This work suits him better."

She sighed. "All right," she relented, splashing him with another handful of water. She snickered when he growled at her. "When you're done here, get him into the bath with you, then send him to me. He needs a haircut if he's going to help here." She gestured to Sind as he took a chance to wipe sweaty strands of blond hair from his eyes. She glanced back to Kid and noticed the scruff growing along his jaw. "And it seems you need a shave."

He grinned at her. "I've been waiting for you to notice."

"Coin, Kid," she reminded, with another splash of water on his face.

"Tsh, you're still making me pay for that? Sind doesn't have to pay for the shit you give him," he huffed as water trickled down his nose.

"Sind is a child. You're more than capable of sparing me a few coins in compensation," she said, sticking her tongue out at him before spraying more water on his face. She pursed her lips to keep from laughing when she noticed his jaw tick while his eyes hardened in annoyance. Even Gunda had to muffle a giggle behind her hand at the sight of her jarl's temper slowly thinning. They both knew Nami was in no danger when she teased him, no matter how angry he became.

"I might have the coin, but don't I get some special treatment for courting you," he growled.

She flicked more water in his face, this time smiling when it made him sneer. "You're not my husband, so no."

"Not yet," he huffed. She gave him another splash of water. "Stop that, woman," he barked at her.

Another flick of water. "Go finish your work, Kid," she said, stepping back as she watched him seethe.

She couldn't resist sending one last handful of water at his face before turning to head back to the hall. That last splash was what finally made his temper snap and she jumped back further when she noticed his lip curl into a sneer while a low growl rumbled in his throat.

"That's it…" He took a step toward her.

"Kid," she said pleadingly, a hand up as she slowly backed away. "Don't do anything rash."

His grin sent a chill down her spine as he took another large step toward her. "I won't… Just going to teach my woman a lesson about what happens when she flirts with me so openly…" He let the threat, or more like promise, hang in the air while she shuffled further away.

"I wasn't flirting," she snapped at him. "I was just teasing you."

"Same thing," he growled, the sound lacking anger, not with the wide grin and gleam of amusement in his eyes. He took two big steps to close the distance. "I think I ought to throw you in the river again."

"Don't you dare," she screamed before thoughtlessly throwing the rest of the water in her bucket in his face.

His grin was washed away and she had to purse her lips to keep from laughing again as he stood there, soaking wet and shocked. Strands of red hair streamed down his face where they fell from the leather headband he wore to hold his hair back that day. His lip curled with another rumbling growl that made her shiver, and not out of fear. The moment he pushed back his hair, she took off with a shriek of laughter and flung her pail back at him as soon as he gave chase.

"Lady Nami. Jarl Eustass," Gunda called after them. "Now is not the time."

Gunda was ignored as Nami sprinted between two homes, squeezing through the narrow alleyway in the hopes it would slow Kid down. He ran around the row of homes and rounded the corner just as she made it out of the gap. She turned away with another playful scream and ran through the village as fast as she could. She heard Kid chuckling behind her as she led them on a twisting path, slowly making her way toward the hall.

She ran by the stables, the drying racks covered with whitefish, the barn where they stored the grain and barrels of ale. She ran behind the barn and glanced back to see how close Kid was. She came to a halt when she found him missing and quickly searched around for him while she took the chance to catch her breath. He hadn't been that far behind. He should have turned the corner right after her. She glanced ahead, the back of the hall in sight, and wondered if he had seen where she was headed and took a different route to cut her off. If that was the case….

She spun on her heel to creep back the way she came. She would lose him and try to give him the jump when he least expected her to.

She walked by a pile of empty barrels that stood taller than her and noticed movement from the corner of her eye. She reacted a moment too late and found herself captured in a tight hold, hauled back against a hard chest shaking with laughter.

"Not flirting with me, huh?" Kid teased as he nipped her ear. Water dripped from his hair to land on the crook of her shoulder, the sensation adding to the pleasurable shiver that raced down her spine.

"I wasn't," she argued, futilely struggling against his grip. "We're supposed to be avoiding that."

Kid hummed in her ear, and then in the blink of an eye, she found herself spun around and shoved back against the side of the barn. He crowded her, boxing her in, and let his gaze sweep over her until he settled hungry eyes on hers. "No harm in one kiss, right?" he whispered, leaning in to tease his nose over hers.

Her gaze fell to his lips and she found herself in agreement. "Just one," she whispered.

She knew what _just one_ entailed before he even slammed his lips to hers. His hand dove into her hair, knotted in the long strands until his grip teased the edge of pain. His other arm wrapped tight around her waist, crushing her to him as he slanted his mouth over hers and deepened the kiss without hesitation. Warmth seeped through her, urged her to pull as close as she could. Kid groaned at the back of his throat when she gripped the front of his tunic, pushed onto her toes, and returned the passion in his kiss with equal fervor.

"One more," she whispered when they parted for a breath. Kid's lips were on hers before she even finished uttering the words.

"More," he demanded with their next breath, even as she speared her fingers in his hair and dragged him down again.

His hand fell to cup her bottom and pull her hips flush to his. Heat seared her at the feel of him hard against her. He had awakened an intense need in her that couldn't be sated with merely a kiss. She ached to feel all he could provide.

"We should stop," she forced herself to whisper at another breath.

"Soon," he agreed, but kissed her again and she had no complaints about that.

A throat cleared nearby and Kid broke the kiss with a disappointed groan to see Gunda standing at the front of the barn. Her arms were crossed over her chest, a brow cocked high in silent rebuke. The stern warning in her gaze was hindered by the blush staining her cheeks, but the message was clear enough that Kid grudgingly began to release her.

His hand slid over her hip as he leaned in to press one last kiss to her cheek and sent a lingering wave of warmth through her. "I'll get Sind in the bath when we're done in the smithy," he muttered into his kiss before pulling away to give her a strained grin. "And I'll find some coin to reimburse you if you help me shave."

"Thank you," she said, her own smile coming easier than his.

He squeezed her hip, stole a quick peck, and then released her, sauntering back to the forge. He sneered at Gunda on his way by, but the shieldmaiden squared her shoulders and glared right back. The determination caught him off guard for a moment. He shook his surprise off and gently nudged her with a quiet chuckle.

"Good job keeping me in line," Nami heard him mutter before he walked off, disappearing around a corner. Once he was gone, Gunda turned her glare onto Nami.

"I didn't intend for that to happen," Nami said with an insistent huff. Gunda's brow rose higher. "It was just one kiss."

"Then you leave me wondering what _two_ kisses looks like, Lady Nami," Gunda said, snorting in amusement. Her stern glare vanished when Nami pouted, and she held out her forgotten bucket. "You'll need to fetch more water. I suggest keeping it in the bucket this time."

Nami snatched the pail with a roll of her eyes. "All right. I'll meet you back at the hall, then," she said before stomping off toward the river.

"And avoid the forge and Jarl Eustass, Lady Nami," Gunda called after her. "If you do not return quickly, I'll have Killer toss you both in the river to douse your lust."

Nami felt her heart skip a beat and her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She was fortunate no one was nearby to hear.

"I'll stay away," she promised as she picked up her pace to hurry off to the river.

Despite her best intentions, she still passed the forge and caught Kid hovering inside the door. He glanced outside as she walked by, captured her gaze, and gave her a wicked smirk. She squeaked when he winked and just barely stopped herself from sprinting toward the river as she felt her blush burn her cheeks.

It wasn't the first time she was caught in a compromising position with Kid, but this time she wasn't supposed to be succumbing to that temptation. They agreed to take a step back, to give her space to focus on the storm ahead without the distraction he provided. She was getting impatient for a clear vision to come, if only so they could keep moving forward in their relationship. It had only been a couple of days, she knew that wasn't enough time to clear him from her mind, but she desperately needed an answer because the shadow looming behind her made it painfully obvious there wasn't any time to spare.

She forced all thought of Kid out of her mind and returned to her original plan - throwing herself into her work.

As she crouched by the river to fill her pail, she heard the cry of a bird overhead and looked up to watch a falcon circle above her. To her surprise, the bird landed on the rocky beach beside her and skipped over the rocks to the water. Entranced, she watched it splash into the shallow water while letting out an excited, clattering chirp. It was a beautiful bird, with white feathers flecked with patches of brown on its back and head. The falcon dunked its head into the water a few times, splashed its wings, and turned to groom under one wing.

When it was done bathing, it hopped back to the shore and stopped long enough to meet her astonished gaze. Its head tilted to the side, as though only noticing her presence, and then it leaned toward her as it let out a loud squawk before taking off in a flurry. She watched the falcon fly off until it vanished into the trees with one last echoing cry.

She shook herself from the stupor of being so close to a wild falcon and turned back to her task. As she began to lift her pail from the water, her gaze caught a flash of white floating on the water. The lost feather rocked on the gentle current that slowly brought it closer.

Remembering the last gift Kid gave her, she decided that the falcon was leaving her another gift and reached out to take the feather. As soon as the feather touched her fingertips, a vision of feathers swirled around her and she felt the shadowy presence at her back. A breath of the breeze fanned over her ear and a shiver went down her spine.

"You need a guide, child," a voice whispered in her mind. Her back went straight as her world snapped back into place. "I await your call," the shadow added, and then it was gone.

She took a deep breath and stared thoughtfully at the feather she held. She realized it wasn't meant to be a gift for her and another shiver raced through her. The advice she was given would likely prove useful, but she was wary of the deal that might have to be made. She wondered what sacrifice she might have to make for the help she would receive.

She would expect everything and nothing, because there was no telling what might come of this deal. A deal she had no choice to make, not if it meant moving forward and saving her fate.

* * *

That night she finished her supper quickly. She had no chores left to do. Kid sat with his ale, rubbing his clean jaw and running his fingers through freshly trimmed hair. Sind was just as intrigued by his new haircut, the sides and back shaved down while she merely trimmed the hair atop his head so that it could easily be kept out of his eyes as he worked. The boy constantly ran his hand over the soft fluff of hair left at the sides, smiling to himself as he toyed with it.

With the men fed and satisfied, there was no need for her to remain in the hall. Gunda offered to finish cleaning up with the servants, leaving Nami free to do as she wished. She wouldn't leave the free time to waste, not when she might have a chance to get answers.

She whispered to Kid that she wanted to be left alone that night as she stole a cup of ale. She couldn't have him ruining this chance by coming to her room and distracting her, even if he didn't come to her seeking affection. His very presence was known to pull her mind from the deepest dreams, she would not allow him to distract her this time. He frowned at her, but didn't argue her decision. With a tilt of his head, he silently asked for a kiss to his cheek that she happily gave before slipping off to her room.

She had fashioned a crude altar out of a chest, placing it against the wall beside the tapestry and escape hatch so that she could face north as she concentrated on her runes and magic. She had little luck conjuring visions with the other runes, but she refused to give up all hope in finding a way to work her magic. Combining them with offerings to her family and gods might offer more insight into her magic, or so she hoped.

That night she opened the hatch in the wall and moved the tapestry to let in the fresh air of late spring, filling her room with the scent of the sea and woods around their village. She had decided that if this didn't work, then she would venture down to the bay the next night and meditate close to the sea, where she had the most luck in conjuring a vision.

She changed out of her dress, choosing to wear only the loose tunic she slept in. She wanted to be comfortable and at ease, as well as ready to crawl into bed if her meditation lasted long into the night. Once she had her hair unbound from its braids, she arranged the furs on the floor around her altar and then lowered herself to kneel before the chest.

On her altar, she arranged her tributes so that the falcon was in the center; it was the one she knew she needed to focus on. She placed her cup of ale in front of the statue, along with the feather she collected that afternoon. She had also collected a stone from the riverbed and etched the _thurisaz_ rune into its smooth grey face. She thought to use the acorn she brought from England, desiring the comforting protection of the oak should her vision bring calamity, but she wasn't hoping to connect with Thor. He wasn't the one that offered her aid.

No, this time she was looking for help from a giant that lived as a god, a force of chaos and change.

With only the flickering light of a single candle, she concentrated on the falcon before her and the one who bore its cloak. A breeze rustled the tapestry and her hair, bringing with it the scent of the woods and the world beyond the boundaries of society. She felt tired from her day, but the scent invigorated her and kept her focused on the play of flame and shadow that fell over the statue. Her eyes blurred until the light and dark bled together and another breeze carried through the room and blew the feather from the altar.

Between the flicker of the candle's flame, her sight turned dark and then all she saw was the flurry of feathers surrounding her. In the span of a breath, her sight shifted and stretched. She blinked once and opened her eyes to Yggdrasil and found herself perched on a branch with the storm in sight, but at a distance.

Despite that distance, she still felt the tremor that came with the lightning and thunder as the tree quaked around her.

A falcon's cry distracted her from the storm and she gazed up to see the falcon of earlier perched on a branch just above her. It flapped its wings, loosening its feathers, and then flew at her, shrieking as though it meant to attack. She ducked as she was assaulted by white and brown feathers, covering her face with her arms when the bird pecked and bit. A claw struck her left shoulder and then the bird was gone.

She blinked in surprise at the abrupt leave and wondered if that was all the vision she would receive. She would have been disappointed, but she had dared to converse with a trickster and a person could be harmed far worse than a few errant scratches.

But Yggdrasil remained beneath her, the storm before her. Her vision was not over.

The branch groaned as a new weight settled behind her. She straightened and began to turn to see what, or who, had joined her. Firm hands clamped down on her shoulders and stilled her. The touch made her shudder as icy fingers curled into her flesh. A breath fluttered over her pulse and sent a chill down her spine.

"You are lost," he whispered, his voice a deep rasp that urged her to listen. "But you have not chosen a path."

She glowered ahead at the storm. If those words were meant to guide her, they were of no help. "I've seen no path."

"You rely too much on foresight," he growled. "It is meant to aid you, but you are turning it into a useless crutch that leaves you more hobbled than you would be without it. You fear it, yet you cling to it. Your hypocrisy is maddening."

"So, what do you suggest? You've offered me aid," she huffed.

"I've offered you no such thing," he huffed right back, his grip tightening on her shoulders.

"But…" She began to turn, intent on glaring at the trickster at her back. He shoved her face forward before she could get more than a glimpse of long, dark hair.

"I offer nothing without compensation," he hissed. "You should understand that well."

Her shoulders sagged forward. "And what compensation would that be?"

"A favor," he said cheerfully. "Nothing more. If you listen carefully to me now, then a time will come when I will have need of you. If you agree to do exactly as I request, without question or complaint, then I will give you the hint you are so desperate for."

Instinct told her to decline. He wasn't trustworthy. He might certainly give her the help she needed, far better aid than she had received in cryptic visions and the Norns' whispers, but no guidance could be worth the debt he would saddle her with.

"Why would I agree to such an offer? You are as likely to betray me as you are to help me. For all I know, your guidance will lead only to death," she reasoned.

The once icy grip turned hot and painful, but relaxed as quickly as his annoyance flared. "You should have more faith in my generosity, because unlike other gods, I don't care if your lover lives or dies."

"And that's meant to reassure me?" she asked, astonished.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until she could feel his weight resting firm against her back. "It should. Freyja might wish to see your lover meet a happier ending than Hnoss' lover, but she will not turn him away should he meet his end in battle and welcome him to her fields with open arms. And Odin doesn't care one whit about happy endings, only fostering the best warriors for his hall." He stretched his arm out in front of them, letting her see long fingers and the black sleeve of his tunic, gilded with strings of gold and silver interwoven with blue and green. "When your lover has shown himself to be the strongest and fiercest, the ravenous wolf Odin desires among his men, Odin will reach out and pluck his life." He snapped his hand shut and yanked his hand back toward them. She felt his breath on her ear with his whisper of, "As easily as he might pluck a ripe apple." His hand opened to reveal the succulent fruit before he pulled it back toward him.

The hand still gripping her by the shoulder relaxed. She heard the crunch of teeth biting into the apple he held.

"But, it is your choice to make," he said blithely as he chewed.

She gnawed on her lip in thought while staring out at the storm on the horizon. Nothing changed, nothing new stood out. No answers were at her fingertips. He was right. She was lost.

"One favor?" she asked. "All you desire is one favor."

He carelessly tossed his apple core from the tree and she watched it arc down through the boughs until it vanished from view. "That's correct. One favor. And I will only request it if you succeed in saving your wolf's life. Doesn't that sound like a good deal?"

It did. _Too_ good. There was a trick, a loophole. There was always a loophole. But what other choice did she have?

"I agree," she said, frowning when she heard him snicker. "Now guide me."

"So impatient. Just like your grandmother," he said with an exaggerated sigh. But then he draped over her back and pointed out toward the storm. "You seek a path, do you not?"

"I do," she huffed.

"And that is where you have erred," he said, waving a finger as though scolding her. She glared at the finger, suddenly feeling like an ignorant child being shamed. "A path is the simplest analogy for what you seek. It is the concept a novice would use, for a path is a set course, a route gouged out by those that came before them. You were on to something when you likened your magic to navigating the seas. Do you pick a path when you sail?"

"There are ways that are known," she said, carefully thinking over what he was telling her.

"But those ways are not always the best. When you crossed the open seas to England, you followed old routes, you followed the stars in the skies. But you also followed the currents beneath the waves and the winds that filled your sails. The stars remain the same, but the rest changes. You may have a fair wind one day, a storm the next. You may see the stars bright against the night sky, or you may find them hidden by clouds. You never see the exact same route that those before you did. You must always be prepared to change course when conditions warrant it and forge a new way."

She was beginning to understand what he meant, but she wasn't certain how it would help her. She saw no route to take at all. She was sitting in open waters, with no wind, no current, no stars to guide her, just waiting for the storm to bear down on them and sink their ship without a chance to avoid it.

He sighed at her back and slumped into her as he pointed to the very end of the branch in front of her. "You remain lost, but that is because you have not _tried_ to move forward. A ship has oars, does it not? You can pick a way without wind and test what lies ahead." She watched as the branch grew, as though encouraged by him, and split off into two new branches. His finger traced along one. "You have tested one way and rejected it, though I suppose your wolf made that decision for you."

A vision flashed before her of Nezumi's sneering grin, the rat's teeth sinking into her arm to drag her away. With a wave of the trickster's hand, the vision dispelled and left behind a wilted, broken branch.

"So, that leaves only one route to take," she whispered in disappointment. What route would that be and where would it lead? Were they returning for her? Was the mad-king coming? Would he bring Arlong and Kid's inevitable demise?

"Does it? Would you say that avoiding one route in favor of another meant there were no other possibilities should the route you take prove unfavorable? Can you not adjust course as many times as you need?" He pointed toward the other branch. "Your magic has been trying to pull you in a direction, yet you insist on ignoring it in favor of fear."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Navigation is easiest for you, but that is not all that your family gifted you with. Did you ever wonder why your foremothers continued their rituals and lineage, despite the threat that came from every generation's father?" She furrowed her brows in confusion, an expression he apparently didn't need to see as he sighed again. " _Magic_. You come from a family of _volvas_ that bear ancestry to the goddess of love. And I am not speaking of warm, flutter in your stomach, wretched, swooning endearment. I am speaking of passionate, heart-stopping, world-shattering _love_. The sort of love that sets you on fire. The sort of love that _creates_ life. You wish to avoid death, why not look toward _life_."

As he spoke, she stared out over the branch he gestured toward and watched another vision flash before her. It was more than an image. Sensation came with it and left her breathless. Her body warmed as she watched fingers clutch naked flesh, sliding over sweat-slick skin, leaving red scratches in their wake. The heat flared within her, singed her, filled her with an ache. She could hear gasps and moans, feel every hot breath upon her flushed skin. Her heart lurched as she watched their bodies writhe, joined together in unending ecstasy.

"The magic is there," he whispered in her ear, "just waiting for you to grasp it. Why not test this route? See what that magic might awaken? The vision it might conjure? If it proves to be the wrong way, you can turn around, seek another route, but you will not know if it is wrong or right unless you _try_."

"What of the curse?" she asked with a breathless voice, her mind enraptured with the vision before her. "What of the madness?"

"What of it? Did you two not enter your courtship with the intent of breaking that curse? You won't know if it's broken until you test it. It is a risk you would have to take eventually," he said, waving his hand and snapping her from the haze of her vision, though the needy ache remained. "Tell me, woman, do you care for that man?"

She nodded.

"Do you desire him? Lust for him?"

She pursed her lips and nodded again.

"Do you wish to save him?"

Another nod.

"Then go to him and see what comes to life. Do not fear the outcome until you know what it is. Give in to the magic born between you, the very magic that has tied you together from the first moment he laid eyes upon you."

He shoved hard at her back, throwing her off the branch to crash back to reality with a strangled gasp. The abrupt change left her reeling and off-balance. She fell back onto her elbows and blinked rapidly to reorient herself in the world that seemed to spin around her.

Even disoriented and confused, the ache remained, urging her to go to Kid, just as _he_ had told her.

Shaking away the last of the haze, she stood on shaky legs. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned toward Kid's room, threatening to beat right out of her chest with every step she took toward him. She clutched the curtain between their rooms as doubt overcame her. She had always hoped to find freedom, happiness, and she had begun to find it in Drafn. But this was different, this was binding herself to a man she might lose, damning herself to the agony she spent so long avoiding.

But if what _he_ said was right, they were already bound, and she knew there was no denying that.

A flash of him above her, his arms wrapped tight around her as he drowned her bliss. The memory of his warm lips, his deep voice rasping in her ear, spurred her to action. With a deep breath, she steeled her resolve and pushed the curtain aside to slip into his quarters.

The room was dark and she had to step carefully as she sought his bed. She followed the sound of quiet snores, the murmur of his voice as he spoke in his sleep.

"Kid," she whispered as she drew near, reaching out for the bed. He groaned just as she felt silky soft fur graze her fingertips, shifting with the man rolling over in his sleep. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out his face in the shadows, his brows furrowed in a scowl, his lips parted to his raspy breaths. "Kid," she called again, pawing at the blankets to slip beneath them.

He twitched when she reached for him, flinched as her fingers trailed along his strong jaw. His snores broke as her touch fell to his lips and he jerked awake, snatching her hand away by the wrist.

"Nami," he grunted, his voice hoarse and confused. "What's wrong? Did you have another-"

She cut him off with a kiss, unwilling to stop herself long enough to doubt again. She needed answers. She needed to know that this was the right way. But most of all, she needed him.

He laid frozen in shock at first, but quickly relaxed, releasing her wrist to wind his hand in her hair and return her kiss. Kid didn't question what he felt. He moved forward as he was compelled to. He wanted her, so he took all she was willing to give. He would never stop long enough to question if it was the right way. He was already certain that it was.

"I need you," she whispered against his lips.

Kid groaned as he sealed their lips in another hard, needy kiss that echoed her words. He pushed her to her back and settled between her legs, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and welcomed his tongue as it flicked past her lips.

She could feel his length pressing against her core, teasing her between layers of cloth. His hips rocked forward with every thrust of his tongue, grinding him against her until the warmth ignited into a blaze. Kid broke the kiss, allowing her a gasp of breath that turned into a moan as he kissed and sucked over her neck.

"I hope you know what you're asking me for," he grumbled against her collarbone as he kissed his way down.

She felt his hands slid over her sides and stomach until they cupped her breasts. She tried to stifle her pleasured cry as she arched into him, reveling in the sweet torment of his touch. Her breasts tingled for more, grew heavy and taut, pleading for the pleasure he never failed to give. His fingers found her nipples and pinched them tight through the fabric of her clothes and she let loose her cry.

She whined when his hands left her and griped the collar of her tunic. She heard him growl, felt the vibrations ripple through her, exciting her. She was too lost from the pleasure of his kiss to care about the sound of fabric tearing. All that mattered was that his mouth covered her breast right after, licking and suckling her nipples until they throbbed. His hands grasped each mound as his mouth toyed with the swollen buds and she swore his skin was on fire everywhere it touched her.

When a hand went down between her legs, pushing her tunic out of his way, that fire coursed through her with one touch. Kid hissed against her chest as he found her wet slit and pushed a finger inside. The thrill that traveled through her core, her stomach, up her spine, left her in knots. Reason flew from her mind as she felt pressure build at the second finger. She felt herself stretching for him with every hard, steady stroke, rocked her hips up to meet each thrust and quench the fiery need within her.

He hissed out a curse, his kisses forgotten as he gasped for breath against her chest. "I need to be inside you," he whispered. "I need to feel all of you wrapped around me."

"Kid," she cried out as she felt the first tremor of satisfaction tease her. He nipped her breast in response, then pulled his fingers from her, chuckling at her pained whine. "Don't stop," she pleaded.

He kissed down her chest, tearing her tunic open to lave his tongue over her stomach. "I still want to taste you," he rasped as he bunched the hem of her tunic around her waist. And then his mouth was on her, his tongue delving into the canal his fingers had just been, stoking a new fire inside her. "So sweet," he rumbled against her core as he sucked a sensitive bud that made her wrap her legs tight around his head and arch back with a keening cry. "Beautiful," he whispered, licking over the tender lips.

Her fingers clawed through his hair as delicious heat filled her, her pleasure coursing over her in waves. Her mind spun in the foggy mess of pure joy. The ripples of satisfaction teased her, filled her with the urgent need for completion. His lips left her for an agonizing second that made her cry out and beg for more. But then she was gifted with the sweet pressure of his fingers entering her, coupled with his mouth playing over that tender bud, and it didn't take long before the world shattered.

And then the vision she sought came.

Lightning crashed down. A cacophony of steel and screams and deafening thunder. The rain that came with the storm was red as blood and chilled her to the core. She was on her knees, sobbing as she clung to red stained fur. Footsteps sloshed through the bloody puddles until someone stood before her.

She slowly looked up, prepared to plead for mercy. The man before her took her breath away with one look. Striking blue eyes looked right at her as a crooked smile pulled up his lips. The gold bracelets on his wrists clacked together as he gripped his golden spear and eased down to crouch in front of her.

"You're going the wrong way, Lady Nami," he said, his voice a deep rumble of thunder to her ears. "That way leads to death."

With another roar of thunder, she snapped from her vision just in time to find Kid above her, his lips heatedly kissing her neck as he murmured, "I can't hold back anymore." She felt something push at the entrance to her core, something much larger than the fingers that were once inside her. "I need to have you," he rasped as he slowly pushed his hips forward.

She panicked as the uncomfortable pressure that bordered on pain washed over her, making her realize exactly what he meant to do. After the vision she just had, reality crashed upon her with the jolt of a lightning strike and she shoved at the man atop her.

"Stop," she cried out, struggling to pull away from the hard cock poised to enter her. "Stop," she demanded with a ragged sob when Kid didn't hear. She twisted her hips and dug her knee into his side, braced her forearm at the front of his throat until he was forced to pull away so he could gasp in a breath.

"What? Nami?" he coughed, picking himself up enough to allow her to scramble back. "What are you doing?" he asked, reaching for her.

She smacked his hands away as another sob welled in her throat. She no longer felt that same lust that drew her to his bed, drew her to beg him for pleasure. All she felt was the heavy ache crushing her heart.

She knew it was too good to be true.

"We can't do this," she explained through a pained gasp as she finally shoved him away. "It's the wrong path," she cried out just before falling out of his bed.

She could just barely make out his face in the dark, though the tears welling in her eyes left it blurry. She could still see his confusion morph into a scowl, and then an angry sneer.

"What do you mean it's the wrong path?" he growled. "What madness has gotten in your head now?"

The contempt in his tone was like a knife to her already pained heart and she scrambled back over the furs scattered on the floor, needing distance from him as she watched anger rapidly grow into rage.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head as the words lodged in her throat. "I want this, but…"

"Get back into bed, Nami," he bit out.

She shook her head again and curled up against the wall, gathering her torn clothes as she listened to him snarl.

"Damn it," he shouted, throwing the blankets from where they tangled near his feet.

"I can't," she whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"Just shut up," he hollered as he climbed from his bed.

She flinched as he stomped toward her, cowered as he stood above her - large, enraged, nude and still fully aroused. He reached for her and she instinctively drew away, shaking her head again as though that was enough to stop him from doing whatever his fury drove him to do.

"No. Please… I'm sorry…" she pleaded.

Kid hissed and ignored her pleas to snatch her by the arm. She continued to beg him not to be too angry with her, only to have her pleas fall on deaf ears as he hauled her from the floor.

"I said shut up," he growled as he dragged her to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He shoved her toward her room, forcing her to stumble through the sliver of an opening in the curtain.

"Please, Kid," she whimpered as he followed her. He sneered before picking her up and tossing her into bed. " _Please don't_."

" _Shut. Up_ ," he yelled before spinning on his heel and stalking back to his room. "Stay there. Don't come near me. No matter what, you don't leave that bed." He paused at the curtain, glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were a torrent of emotions, too many to pick out, though she recognized the spark of his rage as his lip curled in another sneer, and she quickly grabbed her blankets to cover up while curling against the wall. His gaze snapped to the table beside her bed and her eyes followed to see him staring at her axe. "Keep that close," he growled in command. "If I come back in here. _Use it_."

With that firm warning, he stormed out, leaving her to listen to his temper give way to a crashing rage.

For the first time since she met this man, a shiver of fear raced through her. She felt as lost as ever, but she had hope that this was the direction she needed to go.

* * *

Kid stood on the dock watching the dark sky bleed into the light blue of a new day. He had finally found a thin veneer of calm to cling to after feeling his mind tease madness he rarely felt outside of battle.

He had been so close to having her. Nami had come to him, kissed him, needed him. Watching her fall apart from below, seeing her arch in ecstasy from his position between her thighs was a thing of wonder. Hearing her call for him, wantonly writhe for him, drove him past the point of control. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want to slow down. He wanted to join her in that frenzied lust and feel her come apart again with him deep inside her.

But then she told him to stop with a broken voice filled with panic and fear and _agony_ , and he didn't know what to do, what to feel. He would have taken her without a second thought if she hadn't managed to shove him back and make him see the terror in her eyes.

His first thought was that he hurt her. It would have been her first time with a man and he could have taken greater care in her comfort if his eagerness didn't get ahead of her needs. It was the reasonable assumption.

But then he saw the tears in her eyes, heard her say it was the _wrong_ path, and he felt nothing but rage. She had seen something while in his arms and he hadn't even bothered to notice her mind had left, all he paid attention to was the warmth between her legs and the wetness beckoning him to enter her. He would have acted recklessly and damned whatever chance he had at keeping her.

Then the realization of another vision set in, along with the thought that the gods were surely toying with them, and his anger grew. Filled with vile contempt for the woman's _gifts_ , he wanted nothing more than to forget it all and just live as though there was no curse, no foresight, no impending calamity on the horizon. He wanted Nami to have a normal life, _with him_. Not this farcical drama more suited to the gods.

His last realization came as she cowered and whimpered on the floor. She looked pathetic, weak, nothing like the captivating woman that had his heart. She wasn't just terrified of her vision, she was terrified of _him_. That had sent him over the edge, but he managed to keep his rage in check as he focused on getting her out of his sight. No matter what her fear made her think of him, he wouldn't hurt her. He _couldn't_ hurt her. He wanted to fuck her senseless and if he lost himself, he very well could, ignoring all her pleas.

He would have turned into the vile beast he loathed, breaking a promise he made to himself years ago. But he wouldn't let himself be like the scum that ruled before him. Even if Nami had to open his skull with an axe to stop him, he _wouldn't_ lose that last thread of control and cross a line that couldn't not be uncrossed.

After upending the table in his room to send maps and statues and cups crashing to the floor, he stormed out to the main hall, intent on escaping his home and finding something better to take his anger out on. All his men and servants were wide awake, staring at him in mixtures of shock and fear. His men were ready to attack, his servants ready to flee. He must have looked like the mindless beast he felt he was.

He snapped at Gunda to see to Nami. When she hesitated for a brief second, he snarled in her face and watched it turn ashen white. She had shown him such bravery and determination earlier in the day, but that night she knew better than to question him. She ran away, leaving Killer to take her place. His cousin didn't fear him, no matter how angry he was. All he did was stand there with his arms crossed, face set in a disappointed scowl so reminiscent of his father's that Kid felt an inkling of control return, just long enough to have a clear thought.

"Stay with her," he growled. "Don't let me near her. Kill me if you have to." Killer's gaze hardened. He said nothing, but Kid knew that he would take every measure to follow his orders. Satisfied, Kid turned to the rest of his men. "Whoever wants to come with me, be ready at the docks. I leave at dawn."

He stormed out of the hall without waiting for them to ask what he meant and spent the rest of the morning in the forest, taking an axe to every tree that stood in his way until his anger was exhausted.

Now that he was calm and waiting for his men to finish loading their things onto his ship, he had a moment of doubt creep up on him. Unease made him wonder if he was doing the right thing, but that anxiety was quelled at the memory of her terror-stricken face. He couldn't be near her in the state he was in. He might be calm now, but he was liable to snap from frustration. That day, and especially that night, had shown him that they couldn't be trusted to control themselves while together. No matter what they said they would do, he would inevitably be drawn to her, forgetting all that loomed over them. If he wasn't there, though, she wouldn't have to fear his fragile patience, and he could use the distance to quell his desire. Or so he hoped.

Geir stepped up beside him and glared at him with enough strength to break him from his thoughts. Kid flicked his gaze toward him, and narrowed his eyes on the judgmental scowl Geir wore.

"Don't give me that look," he grumbled, looking away.

He saw Geir's sneer from the corner of his eye and swore his glare was hard enough to crack his scowl.

"I know," he huffed. "But I have no choice."

Geir leaned in, growling low in his throat.

"I don't want to hear that from you," he barked. "It's more dangerous if I stay. You're all better off if I'm gone."

"Tsh," Geir hissed, the sound one of grudging retreat.

"I won't stay gone. Once I have my wits together, I'll return," he assured, turning to slap his hand on the man's shoulder. "You're staying with her?" Geir nodded. "Good. Whatever comes while I'm gone, you keep her safe." Geir nodded again before the sound of someone running turned their gazes toward the village.

Kid scowled as he saw Nami race through his men, Gunda and Killer chasing after her. She had changed from her tattered tunic, into a green and blue dress that made her hair look like a wildfire in contrast. It didn't look like she had bothered to comb her hair before she came to him. Even her dress was askew, as though thrown on as an afterthought. He didn't know why she was rushing to him in such a panic. She should be _fleeing_ him in a panic.

"Go back to the hall, Nami," he barked in command.

If she feared his temper, she didn't show it again. "Why are you leaving?" she asked, coming to a stop just within arm's length. Her brown eyes looked as wild as her hair, filled with that same terror that pushed him away.

"I have to," he grunted. He straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest, hoping to appear resolute in his decision, while also physically restraining himself from dragging her into his embrace.

"What? Because I…?" Her eyes went wide and gleamed with unshed tears. "Kid… I…"

"Don't say anything," he growled. "I ain't mad at you, so quit apologizing." Her lip quivered and he felt his resolve crumble with a sigh. He opened his arms to invite her in. She took a tentative step closer, just enough for him to grab her and pull her tight to his chest. This would be the last time he would hold her until she told him it was safe to move forward. "I won't be gone long," he said as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. "But I need to get away before I lose control again. I can't let myself hurt you like that, and the only way I know to prevent that is by getting far away from you."

"But the storm, Kid," she reminded, her small hands clinging to his tunic with such strength, he knew she didn't want him to leave. That was what kept him from being angry at her. She didn't want this any more than he did. She wanted to live a normal life with him. She wanted to give herself to him. The only thing that was stopping them was that damn vision.

"I'm not taking many men, only enough to crew the ship and get us to Hedeby," he explained. "You'll have the rest of my warriors to protect you if I don't return before this storm comes… But I'll do everything I can to return before then. I won't let anything happen to you. I won't let anyone take you away from me."

She pressed her face into his chest as he heard her sniffle. He held onto her even tighter and buried his nose in her hair. The unease returned with an irrational fear that this might be the last he saw of her. He would return for her, though. He would always find his way back to her, no matter how far this curse tore them apart.

"Jarl Kid," Wire called behind him. "The ship is ready."

Kid nodded against Nami's head. He wasn't ready to go, but he had to leave.

He pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her away. She still reached for him, stared up at him with pleading eyes. He held on to her shoulders, squeezing her hard enough that he knew it had to hurt, yet she didn't wince once.

"I'll return in a week. Two at the most." He forced a smile that he doubted was as reassuring as he wanted it to be. "You stay out of trouble until then."

She didn't smile for him. She couldn't smile. Her lip quivered and fear returned to her eyes. He wanted to kiss her fears away, if not hunt them down and slaughter them all, but he didn't trust himself. One taste was all it might take to shatter his resolve completely.

He looked over her head to find Killer and Geir standing together, Gunda not far from them. They watched and waited until he pushed Nami toward them. Killer said nothing as he grasped Nami gently by the arm and tugged her to his side as she seemed to wilt before their very eyes. Geir stepped in Kid's path to her, standing in the way so he couldn't go to her and take that solemn expression away.

"I'm trusting you all to protect her," he grunted, his eyes hard on Killer. "When I return, I want to see her smiling again."

Killer nodded as he wrapped his arm around Nami's head in the gesture of comfort Kid wished he could give. Gunda stepped closer to her, her ashen fear gone, replaced with the determination he had been proud to see on the shieldmaiden's face. She grasped Nami's hand and gave her own promise in a firm nod.

Geir said nothing. But he never said anything. Kid only needed to see the hard set of his eyes to know his answer.

With more effort than it should have taken, he turned his back to them and forced himself to board his ship. Wire stood at the prow with a sympathetic smile. Halle greeted him as he climbed on board and slapped his back to console him. He would have a bare-bones crew, Halle and Wire his strongest among them, but he didn't need more than that. His strongest would stay at the village to protect Nami. There was no greater priority than that.

They pushed from the dock just as the rest of the village woke and left without the fanfare he received before a raid. As they rowed out to the fjord, Kid glanced back to see Nami still standing on the dock, surrounded by an army as ferocious as wolves to guard her.

A tremor of unease hollowed out his gut, fear that he was going the wrong way. It had to be the right way, though. He had already made his decision. All he could do was look forward now. There was no going back.

She would be safe.

She had to be safe.

* * *

 _Corazon_ sat perched on a tree branch overlooking the village of Drafn. Ohm sat on a branch in a tree across from him, his expression markedly different from his own.

Ohm wore a look of firm determination. "I'll free them," he muttered before quietly dropping down to the ground. He had the information King Enel desired. It was time to return to Oslofjord.

 _Corazon_ wore a crooked smile as he lingered long enough to see her turn from the docks, the ship finally out of sight. He chuckled to himself. The wolf was away. This was his chance.

A falcon cried out from a branch above him. He looked up to see it staring down at him. If a bird could lecture him, he was certain that falcon would try. He never knew one to have such a stern look of rebuke on its face.

"I'll behave," he assured the bird, unsure why he bothered.

The falcon growled at him and bobbed its head, then flew off with an echoing shriek.

He slipped from the branch to join his allies on the ground. Ohm stood waiting with a withering glare that made _Corazon_ grin.

"Tsh," Ohm hissed before turning his back to him and leading his band eastward.

Three days had passed since the rats and fish appeared. Two days remained before she would be within reach.

He couldn't wait to see where this path led.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Barely got this update done for you. I'm literally leaving in like fifteen minutes for England, lol. Admittedly, I skimmed that last couple of sections while I editted, so there are probably a ton of typos. Leave me reviews if you catch any and I'll fix them when I get back._

 _So, yes, Loki demanded to be an actual character in the fic. He wouldn't shut up until I let him in. It's already annoying enough having him inspire more things for Law, it's impossible to say no when he wants his own direct role. But, he is really important to the plot, so might as well let him have his fun. I feel he's helping more than hurting, so it's fine._

 _Oh, and I was surprised by how quickly Kid and Nami jumped into the sexual relationship in this, but... it's Kid... I should be more surprised he held out this long. Anyway, as I've warned, the shit is about to hit the fan. There will be deaths (multiple) in the next chapter or two. There will torture and carnage and more death in this whole arc. It is a very dark arc. And the title of the next chapter fits the 'theme' of this arc for Nami, a Swedish proverb or saying that I've found that I feel resonates well with Nami - ensam är stark, which, loosely translated, means alone is strong, or more can be accomplished on your own. Thinking of Nami's life with Arlong reflects that mindset, to me._

 _Anyway. I'm off for a few weeks. I'll be posting pictures and updates and general screaming on my tumblr for any curious to know how my trip goes._

 _EDIT: Okay, I think I caught all the mistakes I made. Sorry for the hastily posted, partially unedited chapter, but I'm back and any that read this now won't have to see the little errors I left._


	25. Chapter 25

_Warning: Depictions of gore and character death._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Oda Eiichiro._

* * *

 _Squall_

Kid's mood darkened with every hour they sailed through the Skagerrak, slowly winding their way toward Denmark. He handed the steering oar to Wire near midday when they entered the Kattegat, bringing them in close to Svealand. Sitting at the side of the ship, he dug a knife into the wale while growling at the thought that the giant terrorizing Nami was somewhere in those lands to the east. He was so close to the bastard, all he needed to do was find the inlet that led the way to Tingstad and he could launch an attack. He would raze that man's hall and slit every giant's throat for making Nami's life, and now his own, so miserable.

"We only have a bare-bones crew, Jarl," Wire spoke up from the oar. "We left our strongest behind. Attack Arlong now and we might not see victory."

"Nothing's certain," he snarled as his gut twisted. Nothing was certain in his mind, not as a creeping unease teased over his spine and urged him to turn back for Drafn. Nami had foreseen his death at Arlong's hand, but the vision she had of the impending storm made no mention of her former captor. Perhaps if he attacked Arlong without Nami present to witness the battle, he might have a chance at inflicting damage on the giant's army. He didn't have to win the war in that attack, only declare his intention to battle the giant for Nami's freedom. A surprise attack might just work.

"You promised Nami that we would return in a week, two at the most," Wire reminded. "What am I to tell her if you let your temper dictate your actions now and send you to an early grave? She'll never forgive you if you die so soon."

Kid growled as the reminder made his gut twist with pain as though a spear ran him through. The thought of a spear sent a shudder down his spine as he remembered that detail from Nami's vision. He needed to return to her quickly. He couldn't leave her to Enel's mercy.

"We'll continue to Hedeby as planned," he relented, his tone bitter. "Perhaps the Earl will know more of Arlong."

Hedeby was a major trading port for the north. It's proximity and access to the Christian kingdoms made it an ideal port for all the northern rulers to use for business. The Danish king held the most power over the north, claimed fealty and alliance with a number of Svear and Norse leaders, but the Earl in Hedeby had their own power because of the hold they had over the port. If anyone had information on who ruled throughout the northern lands, it was the Earl of Hedeby.

His temper continued to simmer beneath a veneer of feigned calm until they sighted Danish lands. The thin trails of smoke from homes and forges beckoned them along the river that led toward the large town. Signal horns announced their arrival before they could even see the docks and Kid shoved his ire away to stand tall and greet whoever awaited them.

The port was teeming with activity as the weather permitted easier trade, but they were guided toward an open dock not far from the fish market and quickly aided in securing their ship by other villagers. Kid's gaze flit over every man that approached the ship to help his crew unload their chests, scrutinizing each one as he searched for a recognizable face. When he couldn't find the person he was looking for, he climbed onto the wale and leaped onto the dock, not bothering to greet any of the villagers helping tie the ship. He left Wire to oversee the ship as he stalked toward the town's market, spying a hunched figure that resembled an old crone slipping unseen through the carts.

She was veiled by a brown cloak made of a bear pelt, hiding her face from the merchants selling smoked mackerel and salmon to passersby. She came to a stop beside one table and pretended to stare at the ships, even caught his gaze as he headed in her direction. He caught the corner of a frown within the shadows of her hood, then her lip curled in a silent hiss, but she didn't let his approach deter her in her task. Bowing her head once more, she idly slipped a slice of mackerel from a basket and hurried away from the vendor while shoving the fish in her mouth.

He rolled his eyes and snorted at the thievery.

"I see you still let your stomach dictate your behavior," he called as the shrouded woman neared him. She came to a halt in front of him, crossed her arms over her chest, and let the hood of the cloak shift so he could see her annoyed glower. "I would think the earl has enough gold to buy fish like a decent person."

She rolled her eyes, but her posture relaxed before she pushed her hood off completely. He grinned at the shock of pink hair that greeted him, coiled and braided in an elaborate crown, decorated with silver and gold beads befitting her noble rank. He let his amused gaze sweep over her to inspect the red dress she wore beneath her cloak, finely trimmed with black, brown, and orange thread over her bust and waist, braided into intricate flowers and leaves. Her face was clean, her lips painted a vibrant red, and a slender gold hoop pierced the flesh beneath her right eye.

"At least you actually look like a woman today, Earl Bonney," he said once he met her glare again. "I expected to find you in your trousers, covered in the blood of a boar when I arrived. No hunt planned today?"

"I returned from a hunt yesterday," she huffed, spinning on her toes to lead him toward her hall. "I already ate the boar I slew, so don't expect any."

He snorted. "You really need to learn how to be hospitable to guests, especially an old friend like myself."

Her loud, high pitched laugh rang out over the market. "You are being generous calling yourself a friend, Jarl Kid."

"In my experience, if you're not greeting me with a sword, then I'm as much a friend as any other man," he quipped as he followed her.

"If I knew you were visiting, I would have had my sword ready," she shot back over her shoulder. "What brings you to Hedeby, anyway? I didn't expect you to have any trade for me this season."

He grunted as he climbed the steps of her hall's entry, unable to hide his frustrated scowl as he followed her inside. "I hadn't planned to visit, but I needed to get away from Drafn for a while."

The earl glanced at him with a thoughtful frown as she stood before the dais where her ornately carved chair sat, replete with etchings of boars with succulent apples wedged in their mouths. He ignored her scrutinizing gaze as he took a seat at a bench closer to the fire.

He had known Jewelry Bonney long before she won her earldom, and he his jarldom. She was the daughter of a well-respected noble, but shirked her family's desire to marry her off as a prize to the wealthiest or strongest suitor, and grew irate with their expectations when they succeeded in arranging a marriage with a Spanish lord. The man tried to bed her before the ceremony, incurring Bonney's wrath, and was found the next morning with his throat slit and manhood removed, while Bonney had vanished. She dressed herself as a man, took up sword and shield, and entered the Danish king's militia without her family's knowledge. She wasn't particularly strong, but she was cunning and intelligent in battle, and an adept spy, capable enough to earn the king's respect and privilege of her own – privilege she used to seize control of Hedeby and take the title of earl for herself, with no husband to strengthen the claim.

When she had been a commander within the king's militia, Kid had fought against her when his bastard father warred with a Danish noble favored by the king over a plot of land that was useless to them in Noreg. But after she took her earldom, he had visited Hedeby with his father's emissaries to congratulate her and enter trade negotiations. His father then tried to rouse rumors of a marriage between the earl and his house, though his sons had long died, leaving only Kid as a potential suitor. He had heard no word of this marriage, would have never agreed to it, and was left to endure Bonney's anger over the whole affair on his own. He quelled her temper and assured her that he would never marry a woman that would murder him in their bed before he could even consummate the union.

The emissaries were forced to leave Hedeby as tension grew and the rumors threatened to destroy any good relationship between their territories. But not long after, Kid went to war over the village and when he won, Bonney was the first to arrive to offer her congratulations. The relationship between their villages wasn't perfect, not with how little Bonney trusted any man that would stand to gain in a marriage to her, but she warmed up enough to him that trade improved between their territories and he no longer had reason to fear walking into a trap the moment he stepped into her hall.

Since then, they maintained a friendship, if one could call trading pointed barbs and empty threats a friendship, that worked as a tentative alliance when it suited either of them to aid the other. They were at least close enough that Kid knew she would see through any attempt to lie or avoid discussing his true reason for being there. She would see that he was bothered over something and not let him pretend otherwise, much to his annoyance.

Bonney removed her cloak and tossed it over the back of her chair before taking a seat. She waved for a servant to bring food and ale, waited long enough for them to be served, and then turned her whole attention onto him.

"You're not one to run away from responsibility," Bonney mused. "If your rule was being threatened by your half-sister's family, you wouldn't leave Drafn for anything, so I know that is not what drove you away. You brought nothing to sell or trade within my market, so you can't use the excuse of business for this visit. I sincerely hope you haven't come to make a bid for marriage like your father once attempted."

He sneered at her. "I ain't marrying you, woman. I've made that clear, so stop mistrusting my intentions here."

"Then what is the true purpose of your visit?" she asked impatiently.

He hesitated a moment, but her eyes narrowed on him and he knew he would have to explain. If he hoped to get some information on Arlong, he would need to tell her why he was interested in Tingstad, as well. He wouldn't be able to avoid discussing Nami with her.

"I've recently begun courting a woman," he grumbled into his cup before taking a fortifying swallow of ale to ease his discomfort over the subject. Bonney's eyes widened and she let out a surprised laugh. He knew she would have questions, so he cast his gaze over the servants and soldiers working within her hall. "But I'd rather not discuss her with an audience present."

Bonney brushed away her shock and slammed her cup onto the arm of her chair. "Everyone out," she shouted, not one to waste a moment in having her questions answered.

It took a few minutes for the servants and guards to gather their things. Her closest guards were hesitant to leave, but Bonney shooed them out as she snatched pitchers and trays of food from passing servants to set on the table Kid claimed for himself. Once they were alone, shut into the hall without anyone to eavesdrop, Bonney took a seat on the bench beside him with a fresh roast within reach for her to devour while they talked.

With a grudging sigh, Kid told her the tale of how he came to meet Nami and bring her into his hall, the tales of her family's ancestry, both false and true, and the prophecies she had made, those that had come to pass and those still looming ahead of them. By the time he told Bonney of his last night with Nami, she had finished her roast and was washing it down with her fifth cup of ale.

"So, you ran away from your woman after she had another vision? You didn't even question what she saw? Comfort her grief over it?" Bonney asked while picking a piece of meat from between her teeth. "That is cold, Jarl Kid. Even for you."

"If I didn't flee the hall when she pushed me away, I would have taken her by force," he growled in defense of his actions. "I can already imagine what she saw. I didn't need to ask to know she had foreseen my death again."

"I still think it cruel that you left. And cowardly," she stated flatly, unfazed by his snarl. "She has foretold of a storm on the horizon, one that might bring that mad king to your threshold. You've left her at the mercy of a monster."

His gut twisted at her words and he fought the urge to silence her judgement with his fist. He knew that he shouldn't have left so quickly, but he swore he had no other option. She said they were on the wrong path. He couldn't be near her after hearing that he was not meant to have her.

Bonney sighed and reached for the pitcher to pour another splash of ale into his cup, urging him to drink. "But, perhaps you are right and there was no better option. Maybe this is the path you were meant to take all along."

"How do you reason that?" he growled before tossing back all the ale in his cup. She glared when he held the cup out for her to fill and shoved the pitcher toward him to do it himself.

"I have heard of this woman you protect," she said. "The giant she runs from sent his search party here first to ask if I had seen her, and then waited on the cusp of my territory for Nezumi to appear. I mistrusted those men immediately. There was something strange about their interest in her and I'm glad to have my suspicions confirmed. You cannot let Arlong and his men take her back."

His hand tightened around his cup. "What do you know of Arlong and his giants?"

"Hardly anything of importance," Bonney admitted. "This was the first time I had heard of them, but the men I kept as my counsel from the previous earl knew of Tingstad. Jarl Genzo was a regular trader here and often came with a little girl in his company – a girl with amber hair. As I have heard, she was a jewel to look upon even then. The Christians within this village thought her angelic… Until she made herself known as the hellion she was. Merchants often found beads and trinkets missing whenever she appeared. Those still worshiping the old gods decided that she may be a beautiful child, but she was surely the daughter of Loki for all her trickery and deceit. Apparently, they were not far off when thinking her a child of the gods."

Kid snorted at the story. It seemed his woman was always a thief.

"My counsel told me that eight years ago, when Genzo's visits abruptly ceased, the former earl sent an agent to learn why his old acquaintance was no longer coming to trade with him. He suspected it was illness, perhaps a plague had struck the village. He never imagined that Genzo would be usurped, not when he was so loved and respected by his people. His agent never returned to inform him of this. He sent a ship shortly after, but the crew failed to return, as well. It took three years before they finally received word through another Svear noble that Tingstad was held by a new man, one that raided and ransacked his Christian neighbors nearly as often as he warred with the Normans and Franks." Bonney leaned over the table to snatch a platter of fish for another course, taking a bite before continuing with her story. "My counsel said that they thought the girl with amber hair had died in the war that claimed her village for this more ruthless jarl. They were surprised to hear she still lives."

"When Chew came searching for her, did he mention why she was so important to Arlong?" Kid asked.

Bonney's brow rose. "No. You've told me far more than he did. He said that she was a ward of Arlong's, like a sister to him, and nothing more. Are you wondering what his real interest in her is?"

"Nami's told me little of her life with Arlong," Kid grumbled. "All I know is that he believes the tale that says she is a daughter to Rán, but that he also means to use her against her father's family in Normandy."

"Who is her father?"

"She doesn't know. He's dead, though, so I'm not sure what leverage Arlong might gain from a bastard, heathen daughter. Whatever his intentions, he means to undo the duchy from within, and from there…" He shrugged. "I don't want to think what he might do with Nami once she's fulfilled her purpose."

Bonney hummed thoughtfully, her gaze fixed on a slice of pink salmon that hung from limp fingertips. Her lips tugged into a deep scowl before she shoved the food in her mouth. "As I said, don't let Arlong take her back. She may survive his torture, but her spirit will die. If you care at all about her, then never allow her to suffer that fate."

Kid turned to snarl at Bonney for thinking he would let Nami fall prey to the giant hunting her, but he paused when he noticed the earl's distant, somber gaze. Whatever thoughts she had about Arlong's interests in Nami, they sparked sympathy in the woman before him. She was not teasing him, not belittling him, merely stating a clear warning of what would happen to Nami if he failed.

Bonney cleared her throat and reached for more ale, breaking the tension in the air around them. "I'd like to meet this woman, if I'm able," she said, her tone relaxed as a smile crept into place. "Not only has she captured the attention of a heartless beast like you, but she is born of a Vanir goddess? She must be a remarkable woman to behold."

He glared at her. "When you say that, it makes me wonder if you mean to steal her for yourself."

"I am no man," Bonney said with a derisive snort. "It's your lot you should be most wary of. You're the ones that claim women as your possessions, the ones that use and abuse us for your own pleasures."

"Then why do you wish to meet her?" he asked.

"As I said, she sounds like a remarkable woman, one that is strong enough to endure the company of giants and wolves," Bonney quipped. "I can't imagine how she's managed to tolerate living with you for more than month. I can barely stand your company for a day. I don't have the patience for you."

He sneered, though he silently wondered how Nami put up with him as well as she did. He was not an idiot, he knew he was far from being an agreeable man. He could spark her fury even easier than he could kindle her lust, yet still she remained with him, and even permitted his courtship. He could only hope that she hadn't lost her patience with him after he chose to flee the temptation of her very existence, abandoning her on the dawn of a storm that neither of them knew what it would bring.

He slumped over the table with a heavy sigh as anxiety returned to churn in his stomach, his ale threatening him with nausea as it rolled in his gut. He knew that he could not linger in Hedeby long, but even as he worried over the fate of Nami and his village, he could not find the energy to spur him into action. His limbs felt heavy and useless, as though bound with invisible chains, keeping him rooted to his seat. He wanted to race back to her, to protect her from whatever came, but he knew that he couldn't.

She chose this path. It was his duty to heed her direction.

"How long do you intend to cower here?" Bonney asked.

He finally allowed himself to snarl at her. "I ain't cowering," he insisted. The earl's brow rose skeptically, but she didn't refute him openly. She knew better than to test his temper with her mockery. "I'll return to Drafn within a week." Assuming the heavy chains holding him down were removed that soon. He feared that the gods meant to keep him away from her, that they meant to test him with the distance.

"And if Enel attacks within that week?" Bonney asked blithely. "What will you do if Nami is taken from you?"

Kid sneered into his cup of ale. He knew the answer to that question without any thought. There was no hesitation in the answer he gave.

"I'll go to war for her."

* * *

The hall was quiet and somber that day, the men and servants all wary of Nami's unease. Her anxiety was palpable, growing with every hour since Kid left.

Killer watched in silence as she paced the hall and pretended nothing was amiss. He had set the men to prepare for whatever battle might come their way. They sharpened their swords, secured their shields, cleaned their axes, readied their spears. The servants brought ale and food to fortify their strength. Killer's swords were sharper than they had ever been, leaving him to observe Nami while he had a servant comb and braid his long hair.

Nami tried to work at her mending first, but grew frustrated with that after only a few minutes. She paced the hall until she snatched up a broom, but her sweeping only stirred dust and dirt into the air, leaving it to resettle where it had lain before. She went to arrange the furniture on the porch, folding blankets and straightening furs, but Killer could see her whole attention wasn't on the task. Her head snapped up, her eyes flitting anxiously over her surroundings as though danger loomed over her shoulder. Her gaze consistently fell onto the woods to the east, searching but finding nothing there.

He leaned toward Stig who was digging into a plate of fish after checking the strength of his bowstring and that his arrows were sturdy. Stig was only a year younger than him. Slender and tall and dark-skinned, the child of a Norseman and a woman from eastern lands not far from where Nami's name was borrowed, he was a skilled hunter and fisherman, more adept with a bow than a sword.

"Gather some men and post a guard in the woods," he whispered. "Focus to the north and east, keep men in the trees so they can overlook the whole bay. I won't have this village taken with its guard down while Kid is away."

Stig nodded and quickly finished his meal before waving at some others within the hall. Killer sat back, his gaze returning to Nami as she came back into the hall to pace around the fire. She didn't ask where the men were going, what orders he had given. She merely stared at the hearth as though it might hold all the answers she needed, all while wearing a rut into the wood floor with her pacing. He had no idea how to break her from her anxieties. Kid was better at infusing his men with confidence, and Killer had witnessed the ease he had quelling Nami's worst fears.

Killer was as confident as his cousin when facing a battle, but he could admit that the uncertainty of what was to come left him wary. Their leader was gone, fleeing the village on the eve of a great storm, and the woman who had foreseen it was restless and leaving them all to wonder if this would be their last battle. Killer needed to know what she had seen that drove their jarl away, but he was loath to ask. She confided in Kid about her visions and rarely anyone else. Heat had been helping her learn her magic and how to understand her visions, but he doubted Nami would have shared as much with him if not for that. Hróarr and Gunda had witnessed her foresight, so they were given more insight than he was. All he knew about her magic came from what Kid confided in him and he wasn't sure if she would welcome his questions, not with the panicked state of mind she was in.

It was late in the afternoon when she finally met his gaze. The servants were preparing the nightly meal and Nami hadn't done more to help beside cut some vegetables for a hearty stew. When she finished that task, she looked lost and distracted, her gaze flitting around the hall as though seeing it for the first time.

 _Or perhaps the last_ , he thought as he noticed the sheen of her eyes and sadness tugging at her lips.

When she saw him watching, as he had been since Kid departed, her lips pursed tight and she forced her eyes to harden. He said nothing as she stood and walked toward him. She cleared her throat, smoothed her hands over her green dress. Her fingers played with the blue thread woven at the waist of her dress and he idly noticed that they shook.

"Killer," she said, her voice firm and steady, but quieter than he was used to. He realized that was the first time he had heard her speak since Kid left. Even Gunda failed to coax her into conversation throughout the day. "Will you walk with me?"

He stared at her a moment, wondering on her motives. She hadn't looked at him for the whole day. Hadn't looked at anyone. Even if she was addressed, her gaze was never wholly fixed on a person's face. Distant and aloof. It was terrifying to see on someone usually so bright. He hoped that she was finally ready to confide her fears in someone.

He nodded and then stood to follow her out of the hall. He kept a hand on the grip of a sword as he watched her back stiffen. She had secured her axe to her belt, hadn't taken it off for the whole day, and as they put distance between themselves and the hall, she casually palmed the smooth wooden shaft to check that her weapon remained there. She silently guided him through the village, toward the bay. Her head tilted and angled in her constant search of the woods around them. She picked up her pace as she led him toward the river. He followed her over the rocky shore and continued to say nothing until she came to the clearing near Kid's old home.

Her shoulders relaxed with the solitude of the area and she let out a relieved sigh once she reached the shade of the oak tree leaning over the water. He watched as she collapsed into sweet smelling grass and finally he was gifted with the slightest of smiles as she breathed in deeply.

He could see why his cousin was so taken with her. It wasn't her beauty that swayed Kid's heart. As fiery and willful as she could be, she had a kind and approachable air, a warmth that a man like Kid craved more than anything else in the world. She was smart and witty and optimistic. Her cowardice was no match for her determination and resolve. No matter how fearful she became, she would never stop moving forward, living for a world of freedom she longed for. No matter how anxious she may become, Kid would always see her as a brave and strong woman, fighting for those she loved.

Her smile showed the strength she bore in her heart, and it was for that smile they would all fight until their last breath.

"I've decided," she said, the quiver in her voice belying the fear not shown in her smile. Killer cocked his head to the side and hummed curiously at the strange statement she made. "Enel is coming for me and I won't let him destroy the lives of innocent people unaware of the danger headed their way."

A shiver went down his spine and he gently eased onto the grass beside her. He wasn't sure what exactly she had decided, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it by those words alone.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked hesitantly.

Her smile grew somber, but no less determined as she stared ahead at the river. He followed her gaze when he heard the shrill cry of a falcon as it circled the opposite bank. It skidded across the rocks as it landed, then hopped toward the water to take a drink. He wasn't sure what to make of the bird when its gaze cast over to them. It seemed to stare intently at Nami for a moment, then went back to splashing within the water.

"I was afraid to pick a route before, but I was given advice that pushed me forward. I can't turn back now," she said, her words becoming even more cryptic as she explained.

Killer looked between her and the falcon, unsure who might have given her advice. If Kid had given her advice, Killer would have heard of it. The same if it had been Heat, or any of the others within the hall.

"I'm not certain yet if the advice I was given will prove fruitful," Nami continued, her tone turning skeptical and annoyed. He glanced at her to see that she was glaring at the falcon across the river. The falcon appeared to glare right back before it opened its beak and clattered as it hopped upon the rocks, flapping its wings as though it were angry with Nami.

Was the falcon communicating with her? Was this another gift?

And then he remembered the falcon Kid carved for Nami, the last gift he had given right after Nezumi left. Nami had been frustrated with her lack of answers when Kid gave her the statue. The night before Kid had left, Nami had gone to bed alone, intent on meditating and praying with the new piece upon her altar. Was the falcon an agent of the gods? Was Freyja giving her the guidance she had been so desperate for?

"They've made me drive Kid away," Nami said, ignorant of his thoughts and the myriad questions he had. "I'm not certain how that could be construed as helpful, but after the last vision I had, I doubt it could make things worse."

"What exactly did you see?" Killer asked, leaning toward her as she continued to stare at the falcon still hopping upon the rocks.

Nami slowly looked at him. "Enel is coming for me. If I had lain with Kid last night like I intended, then this village would have been destroyed and everyone would be slaughtered."

"And now? You pushed Kid away, was that what you needed to do to save the village?"

Her lips pursed and she turned to glare at the falcon once more. The falcon turned its back to her and took off into the trees. It didn't go far, perching upon a branch within sight. Its loud, chattering cry echoed over them.

"I don't know if it'll save the village, but it might help me spare some of the villagers from slaughter," she said carefully. "Kid isn't here to stop me from making whatever decisions I need to make."

He didn't like where her thoughts were taking her. Glowering, he grabbed her forearm and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were cold, her emotions sealed off better than he had ever seen. She wasn't kidding him. She had truly come to her decision.

"Kid might not be here, but I've promised to keep you safe. We all have. We will not let you go without a fight," he argued.

Her smile didn't meet her eyes as she gently placed her hand on his. "And I don't expect you to, but I fear that Enel is too strong. I have met him in my vision. He has seen me. He knows I'm here. He will come prepared for victory. I won't let him take me easily. If there is any chance that we can defeat him, then I will take that route, but if we can't win this battle, then I will make a choice in the hope that we can win the war."

"War?"

"If Enel succeeds, if he takes me from here, what will Kid do the moment he returns to find me gone?" she asked. His eyes widened in realization. It would be war. Kid would not rest until Nami was returned to him. No matter the cost, he would get her back or die trying. Nami's eyes saddened. It was brief, but he saw the flash of emotion before she closed herself off again and looked up to the falcon in the trees. "He will need his strength if he goes to war. He will need an army capable of defeating a giant… or a god. I will not lose his best warriors because I'm afraid of who might take me. I will not let him be weakened by this battle."

Killer sat in silence as the realization sunk in. Nami was not thinking of this one battle on the immediate horizon. She was thinking farther into the future, to the war this battle would breed. She was seeing into a future unknown to them.

"Why tell me this?" he asked quietly.

"Because you're the only one in this village I can trust to keep Kid from acting recklessly. I will make a decision that could affect our whole future, but if he lets his anger get the best of him and comes for me before he is strong enough, then all will be for naught." She turned to face him fully and took his hands in hers. "Promise me you will keep him here for as long as you can. Counsel patience, and if that does not work, then chain him up if you must. Just do not let him come for me."

He sighed. "Kid is not going to be happy about this."

"There is far more at stake here than Kid's happiness," she argued. "I'm not happy about this either, but if it will bring victory in the future, and not just against Enel, then I will do whatever it takes to make that happen."

She was trying to save Kid from the fate she had foreseen. Not because of her foremother's prophecy. She wanted to save him for her own wishes, her own desires. She didn't want to lose him. She would rather suffer alone, separated from those she cared about, than see Kid die.

He forced a reassuring smile for her and squeezed her hand. "I swear to you. I will do everything in my power to temper Kid's rage. I'll trust whatever course you choose."

Genuine relief shone through her smile. There was a subtle tremor of fear in her eyes, but his promise reassured her enough that the tension left her frame. "Thank you."

They sank into a companionable silence as Killer considered the promise he had just made. Kid would be furious with him, but hopefully he didn't see it as a betrayal. He would have to plan carefully for Kid's inevitable rampage. Nothing could be left to chance, not if he was willfully allowing Nami to leave their protection. He would need to give Kid reason to trust this decision and not see it as the abandonment he feared.

Later that night, after the meal had been cleared and Nami had gone to bed, Killer gathered the men around the fire in the hall to strategize the coming war. Nami had made her decision, and so had he.

He sat with all the men watching him, expectantly waiting for his orders. He eyed each of them, carefully considering their strengths and weaknesses. Heat and Hróarr would provide cover for the villagers, evacuating them to the surrounding farms to keep them from falling victim to Enel's attack. Axel and Gunda would protect Nami. Stig would continue his watch. He would personally lead the main guard forces within the village, with Geir as his next in command. His gaze fell to Ove, the large man huddled beneath his bear furs, his expression unreadable. He needed the Dane's strength if this strategy was to succeed.

With a defeated sigh, he leaned forward to share his thoughts.

"Kid is not going to like this…"

* * *

Nami hardly slept that night. She continued to feel an impatient restlessness that left her tossing and turning, lingering on the edge of sleep without gaining any meaningful rest. How long before they came? How long would she have to wait before the course she needed to take showed itself to her?

She knew that her last vision had set everything in motion. She had rejected the path of unguarded hope, the path that appeared to promise her the normal life she might have once longed for. She drove Kid from his hall, leaving her to act without the restraints he would place on her when the battle came. He couldn't stop her from making whatever choice she needed to make, and he wouldn't be there to fight a losing battle. His stubborn recklessness would have been his undoing against the king, even Nami knew that without seeing the battle for herself. He would not let that man take her without a fight, and he would let his anger guide him to ruin if he thought it might protect her. With him gone, Nami had no reason to fear his loss. She could act in her best interests, as well as the interests of the people who never deserved to be afflicted with her curse.

As tired as she was, she pulled herself out of bed at the first sounds of the morning. The hall was quiet as everyone slept, but outside she could hear the morning birds chirping as they hunted for their meals. The falcon that had been lingering around the fjord cried over all of them, a reminder of the route she had chosen to take.

She could feel Loki's shadow lingering at her back. Ever watchful. Ever patient. What he stood to gain from helping her, she couldn't fathom, but he had yet to abandon her, even on the cusp of war. She wasn't sure if she should take comfort from that.

Quietly, careful not to wake the others out in the main hall, Nami lit a candle and set to work. She dressed in yellow and red, combed and braided her hair, decorating it with strings of amber beads and clipping the braid into a bun with a gold comb Halle had slipped to her from his share of the English hoard. She donned the golden brooches that once belonged to the family she never knew, carefully stringing her beads of amber between them. She picked out her favorite gold and amber earrings, put on the gold bangle and leather bracelet she never went without, and made sure that the rest of her treasures were arranged neatly in the silver box Kid had given her. All her dresses were folded and packed away in the chest at the end of her bed while she kept her fur trimmed cloak out.

She tucked the statues and pieces from her altar into the chest with her clothing. Her jewelry box was packed away last. She left her parchment and maps on the table with the vase of flowers Kid had given her, the petals falling away as they wilted, but she packed the book of Frankish nobility and the journal the English knight kept. She bound the jar of ink in thick leather and wedged that into her chest so it wouldn't spill. The journal still had blank pages for her to use if she needed them, but she couldn't spare the room for the rest of her parchment.

She hoped that her chore was meaningless, that she wouldn't need to leave, but instinct told her that it was best to be prepared.

She shut her chest and huffed when the lid refused to close. She had to sit on top to keep it down while latching it shut. When it was secured, she looked up to find Killer standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a heavy glower set on the chest she had just packed. His gaze swept over the tidy room. His frown deepened. He said nothing to sway her decision, but she could see he was unhappy with it. He wouldn't stop her, even though he knew he should.

"The men are ready," he said, his gaze falling back to her. "We all know what to do."

She smiled gratefully. "I should get to work on the meal, then. I think there's some pork left. You could all use the extra meat today," she said, standing to make her way to the door. Killer didn't move from her path, forcing her to stop and look up at him. "What is it?"

He stared at her in stoic silence, then sighed before shifting to the side to let her pass. "It's nothing. I'll help with the meal."

There was a somber mood in the air as the hall ate their breakfast. Most of the men tried to treat the morning like any other, chatting and laughing together at their tables. But she didn't miss the looks they sent her, filled with uncertainty and sadness.

Gunda couldn't seem to look her in the eye. If the shieldmaiden tried to speak with Nami, her voice caught in her throat and she walked away without saying anything at all. She spent most of breakfast at a table with Geir, her gaze fixed on the porridge in her bowl as she mindlessly stirred it. She didn't eat until Geir smacked her arm and glared when she looked up at him. Gunda satisfied him by taking a few small bites, but passed him the rest to finish for her, ignoring the disapproving look in his eye. She sat there with a morose expression that Nami couldn't bear to look at.

Killer sat at the main table with her, as silent as ever, and stole gazes her way when he thought she wasn't looking. He appeared resigned, albeit uneasy with her decision.

To distract herself from the tension looming above them, she spent most of breakfast playing with Sind. The boy had claimed Kid's chair between her and Killer. He was too small for the jarl's throne, but he didn't care a whit as he swung his feet back and forth while forcing himself to scowl at a broken branch that he pretended to carve. It was an adorable play at mimicry that Nami was more than happy to entertain. He played the part of Kid well until Nami called him Jarl and praised whatever it was he was attempting to make, then his unnatural scowl turned into a stifled giggle as he fought off a smile.

The boy hadn't noticed the unease in the hall, or perhaps he chose not to care. He was learning the language quickly, but she doubted he fully comprehended all that had happened the last few days, the words spoken, the warnings given. He was oblivious, steeped with the childhood innocence she once had. He had witnessed war and battle, yet he remained untouched by the grim reality around him. He wouldn't remain ignorant for long, though she wished she could provide him with more time to enjoy the peaceful life they had managed to give him since he came to the hall.

A rapping noise outside broke into the tenuous peace of breakfast. Nami's spine straightened as Hróarr stood to investigate. She tried to hide her fear as she reached for Sind, running her hand through his hair in a vain attempt to appear calm. She was preparing to drag him from his seat and send him off to hide somewhere within the hall if necessary.

Hróarr returned quickly with Ingrid on his arm, hobbling along beside him as her cane bore some of her weight. Ingvild bounded in behind her grandmother, full of energy and as innocently unaware as Sind. The little girl skipped through the tables filled with armed warriors, unbothered by the axes and swords at their hips or resting on the tables, and leaped onto the platform the main table sat. Nami forced a smile as Ingvild climbed into her lap and leaned over to see what Sind was carving.

"I apologize for interrupting your meal," Ingrid croaked once she was at a table just in front of Nami's. Hróarr helped the old woman into a chair and waved for a servant to bring her food. "I woke this morning with my knees and hips all knotted up. Miracle I got out of bed. Can you help look after the little one for me? I can't keep up with her today."

"Of course," Nami said, her forced smile widening. It would be good to have a task to keep her busy that day. She would grow restless again if she was left on her own. "Did you have any chores to see to? I'd be happy to spare some help for you."

Ingrid hummed as she took a bowl of porridge from a servant. "Just the sweeping, and possibly some help preparing supper."

"You are welcome to dine with us tonight," Nami said.

"I thank you for your hospitality," Ingrid said with a nod. "You are much too good for that Jarl."

"He would have offered the same if he was here," she said in Kid's defense.

"Perhaps. But he would have said it less kindly." Ingrid snorted as Nami giggled at the truth of that. He would have grumbled the offer while he ate and then muttered insincere complaints about it under his breath. The old woman paused in her eating to stare at Nami. She tried to ignore the scrutinizing sweep of Ingrid's gaze, turning to give Sind's work her attention. "You are dressed quite finely today, Lady Nami. Is there some auspicious occasion that we should be celebrating?"

Nami's smile remained forced. "No, I just woke early and felt that I should dress well today. You never know what the day might bring."

Ingrid nodded sagely. "Well, you look beautiful today. I'm sure Freyja herself would smile upon you."

"I hope she does," Nami said while Killer shifted in his chair. She glanced over to see him glaring at his plate as he stabbed a knife into a slice of pork. When he saw her watching, his lip curled into a sneer and silent hiss before he shoved his pork into his mouth.

Her brow rose at the first sign of genuine anger she had ever seen from the man.

"Well, at least while Jarl Eustass is away, _someone_ is playing the role of surly grouch in this hall," Ingrid spoke up, her tone filled with reproach. "Really, Killer? You are much too handsome to be twisting your face into your cousin's scowl. Especially one directed at Lady Nami. You usually show her nothing but the utmost respect. What has gotten into you this morning?"

Killer's expression lost all emotion. He turned a stoic gaze to Ingrid and quietly stared at the old woman's glare. After a moment, he bowed his head and muttered an apology before digging into the last of his meal.

Ingrid sighed. "First Jarl Eustass runs off on an unannounced and unplanned journey with hardly any men and nothing to trade, and now his cousin sits in his hall growling as he would. What has become of this hall?"

"I don't think Killer slept well last night. He's just ill-tempered this morning." She smiled at Killer, ignoring the annoyance in his gaze. "I'm sure his mood will improve before the day is done," she lied.

She hoped by the end of the day that lie would turn into a truth. She would rather see them win their battle, but she knew it would not be easy. _Could not be easy_. This was a test, a chance to prove themselves to any god watching, to show them that they would not let their lives be ruined by a foolish curse. Her family had suffered its effects for centuries, but the world was changing around them and surely this had to change, too.

"Hróarr, when we're finished eating, perhaps you could help Ingrid back to her home and see to some of her chores so she can rest," Nami said, smiling at the older man. He glowered at her, but nodded his agreement. She hoped he also saw fit to sending her out of the village before the king came. She wouldn't suggest it aloud, if only to keep the old woman and children from worrying. They would be safe.

To her great fortune, Hróarr turned to Ingrid with a gentle expression. "I think a walk would be good for your joints. Loosen them up. We won't go far, only to Jarl Eustass' old home, and I'll bring a cart in case you tire, but the exercise could do you good."

Ingrid glared at him. "Are you daft? A walk that far is like to kill me."

"That is why I intend to bring the cart," Hróarr said, trying to convince her on the idea. "And you can stay the night there if need be."

The old woman waved him off. "We'll see how I feel after a few chores are done."

Nami stifled her urge to sigh in relief. She would wait until Ingrid was in that cart and on her way to safety. She would see that the children went along with her.

They finished breakfast with light-hearted conversation. Sind finished carving his stick, though she still had no thought as to what he had attempted to make. He and Ingvild ran off to play in the square before Nami could stop them, but Gunda hurried out after them to keep an eye out for trouble. Hróarr left behind her, Ingrid hobbling along with his support. The old woman shouted at her granddaughter, urging her to behave for her temporary guardians.

Nami saw that the hall was tidied up before heading outside to watch the children with Gunda. Killer had huddled together with the men while she and the servants cleaned. The men spoke at a hush and Nami ignored the casual glances they sent to her. When she stepped outside and found Sind and Ingvild playing a game, she noticed Axel break away from the men to follow her.

It appeared she would have a guard that day.

She paid him no mind as she joined the children.

The morning remained peaceful. Nami let her games with the children keep her mind occupied. She refused to look out toward the fjord, or search the woods to the north and east. They had scouts roaming the trees. They would alert them to danger before she could so much as glimpse a sail on the horizon.

The falcon circled the village throughout the day, squawking and clattering when it wasn't resting upon its preferred perch – a wolfish snarl jutting out from the top of the hall's roof. She caught Killer glare at the bird on his way by once, but he continued to hold his tongue as he made his way to the smith's forge.

Afternoon crept up on them and Nami made her way to Ingrid's home to see how the old woman was faring. She walked in to hear Hróarr urging her to journey out toward the countryside with little luck in swaying the stubborn woman.

"We'll come with you," Nami offered as she hefted Ingvild onto her hip. Gunda and Axel remained outside with Sind, her guards keeping the boy entertained. "There's an oak tree by the river I'd like to collect some acorns from, the children can help me while you rest by the river. I think Hróarr's right – the exercise will do you good."

Ingrid sighed grudgingly where she sat by the fire. She looked weary and feeble, far too old to flee from any dangers.

"I'll have the servants put together a basket with some berries and ale to enjoy," Nami added. "We just received a fresh batch of ale from Killer's farm. It's very tasty."

Ingrid's brow rose, but she finally relented with a nod. "Only for the ale. It'll do my aches more good than this exercise you insist upon."

Once again, Nami stifled her relief and forced a smile. She could not let these people worry or have reason to fear.

She left Hróarr and Gunda to help Ingrid prepare for their journey and sent Axel ahead to ready a horse and cart. She took the children to the hall, tasking them to help the servants with the food and ale. As they walked back to the hall, she took note of the quiet settling over the village. She had noticed that Killer and the rest of the men had been wandering through the village, going from home to home. She hadn't thought too much of it until she caught a glimpse of villagers walking toward the south and west, away from the village and toward the farmlands within Kid's territory.

They had been warned of the war on the horizon.

Some of the homes stood completely empty now, others had a man left behind, sharpening an axe with the intent of defending their home. Some widows remained for the same reason, sending their children away to safety. It was a quiet exodus, one that hopefully went unnoticed by any spies that might be hiding within the forest.

Nami and the children had baskets filled with food by the time Axel hollered to them from the square, telling them that the cart was ready. Nami shooed the children out ahead of her and turned to the servants.

"Gather what you can for food and go to Killer's farm," she whispered to the thralls. "Go as quietly and carefully as you can. Remain there until you are sent for."

They all exchanged curious looks before nodding their agreement. She had no doubt that a few of them might try to flee from their life of servitude, but that was the least of her worries. If they remained, and survived the battle, they would be taken as slaves for another household, one she had no doubt was far worse than Kid's. Death might be a better option for them in that case.

"Why is the village so quiet?" she heard Ingrid asking as she walked out of the hall. "And solemn. This day is strange."

"I think I feel a storm on the wind," Nami called to her while descending the steps to the square. "The unrest in the air might be affecting everyone."

Ingrid glowered at her forced smile and turned to face her fully. "You're hiding something from me. I may be old, but I'm lucid enough to recognize men preparing for war. What is coming for us?"

Nami knew there was no use in hiding her vision from the old woman any longer. It would likely make her evacuation simpler. With the rest of the villagers making their way to safety, there was no concern about sending everyone into a panic.

A scream rang out over the river and fjord, cutting off her explanation before she could even take a breath to speak.

"Get her in the cart," she ordered Hróarr while Gunda hurried to help the children up into the cart, too. "There's no time left."

She heard a shout, another scream, the clash of steel, and the strike of an arrow into wood. She wondered why she heard no horns, no alarms of attack when danger was clearly upon them. The next scream she heard was louder, followed by the scent of a fresh fire and a dark plume of smoke that drew her attention from the northern woods she had expected the king to attack from.

Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

"They're coming from the south," she called out, turning wide eyes to Hróarr. His face was ashen white with his own realization.

Panic threatened to steal her breath. The villagers that were sent away in anticipation of attack had gone that way. They had sent those innocent families straight to their deaths.

A horn finally bellowed from the north, quick and sharp and followed by another that came from the west. Another series of screams cried out from the back of the hall just before the thrum of a bowstring urged her to action.

"Go," she cried out at Hróarr just as he climbed into the seat of the cart and took the horse's reins from Axel. The first arrow struck a house just to the north of them and Nami could hear the sounds of battle coming closer.

"Lady Nami, you must go, too," Gunda urged as she lifted her shield and took out her sword.

She wanted to run, her legs urged her to flee as far and fast as she could. But if she ran, then she was only proving herself a useless coward and dooming these people to more suffering than they were already sure to endure.

"Nami," Killer shouted over the growing cacophony of battling. His swords were drawn, but he sprinted toward them instead of facing battle directly. He said nothing, merely pointed at the cart before spinning to take on the first warrior to appear before them.

"Lady Nami," Gunda urged again while Axel took his shield from his back and position himself to defend the vulnerable cart.

She couldn't find the words to argue with them any longer. She would trust them to fight for her until no hope was left.

"Go," she commanded Hróarr as she climbed into the cart. Ingrid beckoned her to hunker down with her and the children. With a quick shout and snap of the reins, Hróarr took off as fast as the cart could carry them. She heard an arrow slam into the side of the cart and flinched away from the sharp metal piercing the wood near her shoulder.

The cart would not be enough to save them, but she had to hope for now.

She gathered Sind into her arms, forcing him toward the center to cover him with her body and protect him from any more arrows. Ingrid did the same for her granddaughter. The children were fortunately silent, but Sind was trembling in her arms and she could see the fear in Ingvild's flickering eyes.

She could hear people running behind the cart and dared to glance back to see Gunda and Axel following them on foot. They both had their weapons out, ready to fight any attackers that came at them. She knew their escape would be cut off soon enough. If they headed toward the river, they would run right into the main attack on the fleeing villagers. If they went west, into the forest, they would run into another flank there. They might have some fortune if they took a ship into the fjord, but the shiver that ran down her spine said the brunt of the storm would come from the fjord. This attack was merely the beginning of all that she foresaw.

"Were any men directed to protect the villagers?" she called up to Hróarr.

"Heat was leading a small faction to watch over the bridge. I was meant to join him, but…" Hróarr's answer ended with the sound of a bowstring thrumming dangerously close.

Ingrid grunted beside her and slumped forward over her granddaughter.

"Ingrid," Nami cried out as she noticed the arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

"I'm all right," Ingrid whispered while Ingvild whimpered beneath her. Nami looked up to see an archer standing on a rooftop, another arrow knocked. "It'll be…"

Nami moved to cover her as the archer released the next arrow, but was too late to save her. The arrow sliced into the old woman's lower back.

Ingvild screamed when her grandmother cried out and fell heavier onto her. The old woman's breath rasped out. Nami watched her eyes struggle to stay open as she rasped words too soft for Nami to understand. The old woman ran a hand through Ingvild's light brown hair, shushing the crying child, even as another arrow struck her leg.

"Don't cry, child," she heard Ingrid rasp as her eyes finally lost the battle to stay open. "Don't cry. Don't cry."

Nami's eyes stung as she listened to her voice grow softer before she fell silent. She heard Axel and Gunda shout behind her, mixed with the ring of steel against steel. She swallowed her grief to gather Sind closer to her chest and squeezed them against the old woman's body. Sind was trembling more and she could hear him whimper, but his fear was drowned out by Ingvild's sobs as she tried to wake her grandmother.

"Shhh." Nami reached out to cover Ingvild's head and urge her to remain still beneath her grandmother. The smell of death reached her nose, but she held back her urge to gag at the putrid scent of feces that grew stronger in the air as they raced through the village streets. Ingrid's body was better protection than any shield for the children.

Nami knew she had no reason to fear her own safety. She hadn't been shot by the archer. All the arrows struck the wood or Ingrid, one sank into the bench Hróarr sat on. They weren't aiming for her.

The cart jostled abruptly and a hand clamped down on her hair. Nami screamed in surprise while Hróarr shouted from the front of the cart. Whoever jumped into the cart with her pulled at her hair hard enough to send a sharp pain through her scalp. The pain raced down her spine when he jerked her head back, forcing her to cry out while the children screamed and grasped onto her dress.

She grappled for the axe hanging from her belt, but the man's grip loosened as suddenly as it appeared. A spray of blood struck her cheek and she looked up to see Hróarr standing on the cart, facing the attacker. His sword dripped with fresh blood as he shoved the dying man off the moving cart.

"Stay down," he ordered as he retook his reins.

Nami nodded, gaping at the close call, and turned back to the cowering children. "It's all right," she reassured as she gathered them in again. "Everything will be all right."

She heard Hróarr hiss a quiet curse and the cart came to a skidding halt. The horse whinnied loudly and she glanced up to see it rear in front of the cart and then crash to the ground on its side.

"Stay down," Hróarr whispered before she heard him release a wheezing breath. She looked up at him, her eyes widening at the arrow sunk deep into his chest.

He began to stand, his hand clinging to his sword. She wanted a cry out a warning, but her voice lodged in her throat. It would have been too late to save him from the next arrow that pierced into his eye. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream as she watched him fall back onto the bench, limp and lifeless. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as what little hope she might have had trickled away.

"Lady Nami," a man called out. "We were told that you would take this route to escape."

She pushed Sind and Ingvild to stay low while dashing away her tears. This wasn't the time to cry.

She forced her fear away, shook off Sind's hands when he tried to clasp onto her dress, and slowly sat up to see who called to her. Smoke filled the air around her. The homes closest to the bridge were razed and smoldering while more homes were catching fire. Within the black and grey plumes, two men stood in the path between her and the way that should have led the villagers to safety. She choked back another sob when she spied bodies littering the ground before the burning bridge that was slowly falling to pieces over the water.

Women, children, elderly – they spared no one. She could only hope some made it to safety earlier in the day.

She also noticed that Gunda and Axel were nowhere in sight.

The men standing in her way stepped forward and her hand instinctively fell to her axe. The large, heavy set man froze in the middle of the path and knocked an arrow in his bow to aim at her. The other man wasn't fazed and waved for his companion to stand down. The second man was tall, built with lean muscle. His head was bald, but he still had a neatly groomed beard to frame his thin scowl. His dark skin contrasted to his companion's fair complexion, his clean scalp with the rotund man's long mane of deep red hair.

The taller one that approached her raised a hand in a calming gesture. A white dog trotted at his side, its tongue lulling out the side of its mouth before it stopped to sniff at the dying horse bound to her cart.

"We have come to fetch you. It would be in everyone's best interest if you come without a fight," the man said, his voice perfectly calm.

She eyed the sword resting on his shoulder, but forced herself to relax. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed out her dress and ignored Sind's pleading tugs as she stood. She straightened her spine and forced herself to stare down coldly at the men approaching her.

"Who sent you?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"The king, of course," he answered. "I am Ohm, one of his priests. I've come to set you and this village free."

A shiver raced down her spine. She didn't like the darkness in his eyes when he said that. His words were cold and emotionless. His idea of freedom was not the same as hers.

"If I go with you, will you promise not to harm these people?" she asked, tilting her head back to stare down her nose at him.

Ohm sighed. "I can make no promise. If they fight us, we will have no choice but to fight back."

Anger clawed at her chest, but she shoved her temper aside as best she could. "You just slaughtered innocent people only seeking to escape you. I don't think I can trust you to keep your word that you will only fight those that attack you directly."

"If they bend their knee and pledge fealty to King Enel, I am certain he will spare the rest," the other man called as he lowered his weapon. His lips twisted in a mocking smile that she trusted even less than Ohm's words.

She had little other choice but to trust them. If she continued to resist, she would only guarantee that the village and all its residents would be destroyed. There would be no survivors, no hope.

"I'll go with you," she decided. "But, if you cannot guarantee the security of the villagers, then at least promise me that you'll allow these children safe passage from this battle."

Ohm craned his head to see the two children hiding in the cart with her. His lips pursed in a frown, but he agreed with a grudging nod.

"Swear it in your king's name," she added, refusing to trust his word so easily.

"I swear it," he said firmly. "Your wards will be safe."

He came over to extend a hand. She turned her nose up at the silent offer to help her from the cart and gathered the skirts of her dress to climb down on her own. Sind held tight to the hem of her dress and whined to her in English. She didn't understand a word he spoke, but the tears streaking down his face said enough. Ingvild sobbed pleas for Nami to remain, holding out a tiny hand from beneath her grandmother's body.

Nami struggled to hold back her tears as she wrenched Sind's hands from her dress. He shouted in alarm as she slipped over the side of the cart and lunged without warning. She watched with terror creeping up her spine as Ohm shifted his sword on his shoulder, tensing as though preparing to strike the child down for merely reaching for her. She moved quickly to block the man from harming Sind and turned to face the boy.

She smacked Sind across the cheek and sent him reeling back into the cart. Her chest ached with guilt as he turned shocked eyes up to her while nursing his red cheek.

"You can't come with me," she said coldly. "Stay with Ingvild and wait for Jarl Kid to return."

"I hope you don't mean to incite a war with those words," Ohm said, his voice pitched low with a warning.

She glared at him. "Your king has already incited a war by coming to take me. Nothing I say or do is likely to change that."

If she was taken by force, the war would be quick and bloody and likely end in the king's favor. By going of her own free will, she might have given Killer a chance to temper Kid's anger. This war would not be won with reckless action. Kid could not let his rage dictate his behavior.

"Lady Nami," someone called out. Nami turned to see Gunda and Axel sprinting toward her, both bloody and bruised. Gunda's braids were undone, her hair flying wild with the ends ragged and uneven. Her battles had left her hair shorn, cut to her shoulders. Axel looked to have fared better in battle, but she could see him breathing harshly and his gait was slower than the shieldmaiden's, coupled with a slight limp.

Their injuries likely wouldn't be enough to deter them in their duties and that realization made Nami's blood run cold.

"Stop," she cried out, but her warning went unheeded as Gunda grit her teeth and sped toward them, her gaze set on Ohm and sword ready to strike.

Ohm shifted only slightly and pushed Nami aside before raising his sword to block Gunda's first blow. He put no effort in pushing her away. Gunda came back with another strike, but Ohm lazily kicked her in the stomach to send her to the ground, coughing up bile from the force of his blow. In a flash, Ohm struck out with his sword and Nami screamed as she watched his blade slice across Gunda's face.

She felt helpless as she watched Gunda fall back, the shieldmaiden's eyes wide as blood flowed over her cheek and nose and brow. But as Ohm pulled back his sword to ready for another strike, a final blow that would kill the woman, Nami forced herself to move.

She locked her arm around Ohm's and held him as tight as she could. He tried to shake her off, but she dug her heels into the slick ground and used all her strength to pull him away. Axel's shout broke into her efforts and she looked up to watch him dodge an arrow from the other man while running toward Ohm. His face was twisted in anger as he readied his axe to strike at the man she held.

"Holy," Ohm shouted while he continued to fight her grip.

The white dog forgot the horse it had been sniffing and sprinted at the threat to its master. Axel stood no chance to hit the dog while he smack away another arrow. He was sent to the ground with a pained shout, the dog's teeth clamped down tight on his forearm. He tried to slash his axe at the animal, but as soon as he raised his free arm, an arrow flew at him and pierced just below his wrist. He cried out as his weapon fell from his loosened grip and struggled to shove off the dog as it jerked and twisted the arm in his maw.

"Stop," she screamed when Ohm finally managed to push her away. She stumbled back with the force of his shove, but was caught by the arm when his companion rushed forward. He gave her arm a sharp tug that sent a bolt of pain through her shoulder before she collapsed against his side.

"Don't get in the way, woman," he hissed while they watched Ohm once more prepare to strike Gunda down. The shieldmaiden was too dazed to save herself. She could only lay on the ground and watch the sword as it came down at her, aiming for her heart.

So caught up in the struggle with the two men, Nami didn't hear the galloping beat of a horse as it neared until it were upon them. A man hollered just before the horse flew into the fight, knocking Ohm away from his victim as it reared on its hind legs and kicked at his head. Ohm ducked and slashed at the animal, but missed, too concerned with protecting his head from the horse's hoof. Another enraged shout drew Nami's attention to the rider. Geir's face was twisted in anger as he turned his horse away, careful to avoid Gunda, and slashed at Ohm with his sword.

"Nami," she heard Heat call out as he raced toward them from the river on another horse. He had two more horses behind him, saddled but riderless. He balanced in his saddle as he knocked an arrow and quickly let it loose at the dog trying to tear Axel apart. Ohm let out a sharp whistle and the dog jumped away just before the arrow could strike him, but Heat was not deterred by the miss and knocked another arrow, this time aiming for the dog's master.

Ohm's companion shoved her away so he could knock his arrow and aim it at Heat. His shot struck the healer in the arm, sending Heat's shot wide of its mark and nearly struck Geir's horse. This battle was turning into chaos when there should be no need of it. These people were only prolonging the inevitable by coming to her rescue. If they continued to battle these men, then she wouldn't be able to save anyone.

She had to save them.

She ran at the archer before he could let his next arrow loose on Heat. She slammed into his back and knocked him over. His arrow flew straight up. He scrambled back to his feet, quicker than she would expect from a man of his build, and backhanded her for her actions. The strike forced her to crash into the cart again. She tasted blood on her tongue, felt a split in her lower lip, but she had no time to think of her own injuries as Heat leaped from his horse to attack with his short sword.

Nami threw herself between the two men.

"Stop fighting," she yelled, freezing Heat in place. His eyes went wide as she glared at him. "I've already agreed to go with them. This battle is over."

"We can't let you…" he began to argue, but paused when she stepped toward him, sneering.

"If you don't end this battle now and get the children to safety, I will kill you myself," she warned coldly. " _Leave_."

The scream of Geir's horse broke Heat's gaze from her. The other warrior was flung from his saddle after Ohm landed a strike on the horse's foreleg. The animal reared and kicked, nearly trampled its rider, and then took off for the woods. The horse had more sense than the men who thought to save her.

Ohm stepped toward her, his sword raised defensively as he eyed the injured warriors around them.

"You're fighting a losing battle," Nami said to Heat and the others. "You have no hope of winning here today. Take your lives and let me leave of my own free will."

"Kid wouldn't…"

"I don't care what he would want," she yelled. "He isn't here. He left on the eve of this battle. He cannot stop me from leaving now. And that is the way it is supposed to be."

An eerie silence fell over them as Heat stared at her. His expression showed no emotion but she could see the conflict in his eyes. The sound of the children sobbing in the cart finally reached his ears after a moment and he stepped back, sheathing his short sword.

"Get the children," he ordered Geir. "We're retreating now."

She didn't allow herself to relax until the men had mounted the other horses. Axel threw Gunda over the flank of one before tenderly dragging himself into the saddle, his injuries hindering him, but he stubbornly managed. Geir took Sind into his lap on another horse, and Heat had the sobbing Ingvild. She watched as they began to trot toward the river, the men all stealing glances back at her, surely wary of the men with her.

They were right to worry.

Ohm's companion stepped in front of her, another arrow knocked in his bow as he aimed at Heat's back. Nami felt a rush of anger and propelled forward to force him off balance, ruining his shot. The arrow slammed into a tree, alerting the retreating group of his intent. Heat gave a shouted command and they kicked their horses into gallops, fleeing into the thick trees where the man's arrows could not reach them.

The archer growled in anger and turned, his hand raised to strike her again. Ohm caught his arm and glared. "Let it go, Satori," he commanded.

Satori jerked his arm back and sneered at the other man. "Don't presume to order me around. I'm a priest, too. You have no authority over me."

"I am more skilled a warrior, undefeated in battle. If King Enel thought to rank us, I would be your superior," Ohm countered.

Nami sighed as the two men proceeded to bicker and turned to the cart. Her eyes burned as she took in the two lifeless bodies that remained. Her throat tightened as she stared at Hróarr's gaped expression and ashen face. The blood trickling from his eye had already begun to dry.

She took a deep breath and forced back her grief. She could not cry over them, not yet. She had to smile, to look forward. Better days would come so long as she continued to move forward. She would not let their deaths be in vain. With one more deep breath, she forced herself to climb onto the bench while the priests bickered behind her. She took a moment to close Hróarr's mouth and his one eye before plucking a small amber bead from her leather bracelet.

"It's all I have to give you," she whispered while pressing the stone into his hand. She had to force his stiffening fingers to close over it and choked back a sob as she pressed the loose fist over his heart. "When you see Finn, tell him he is missed." She sniffled and a tear broke free. "As you will be."

She leaned up to kiss his cold cheek and bit her lip when she pulled back to keep herself from sobbing again. The priests were still arguing as she climbed into the back with Ingrid, gifting the old woman with another bead of amber.

"Your granddaughter will be safe," she promised as she brushed back the old woman's grey hair. "I would take care of her myself if I could, but until it's safe to see her again, she will have to be Kid's responsibility. I'm sure he'll protect her for you." Ingrid's knotted hands were balled into tight fists, but she forced her amber between her fingers. "I hope Freyja welcomes you into her hall with the others, but if not, I'm certain Loki's daughter will treat you well in her domain."

With her goodbyes said, she jumped out of the cart and shoved her way between the two bickering priests. They silenced themselves as she straightened her back and tilted her chin up. She would not let them see her grieve any longer. She would not let any other man see her cry again. She would fight her battles alone until she was free. She would stay strong, no matter what lay before her.

"I'm ready to leave," she said, her voice hard with determination. The falcon had left its perch on the hall and circled above them, crying out its approval as a rumble of thunder carried over the fjord. "Take me to the king."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Finally back and writing more consistently again! Yay!_

 _This chapter was going to be longer, but I felt it best to split this battle into two parts so I can pace it better. If you're wondering about Killer's battle, you'll get that in the next chapter. I'm hoping the action I write for that battle is better than the action in this one. I feel this was rushed a bit, scant on some details and emotions, but maybe that's just from my perspective since I wrote it._

 _And, as I warned, this arc gets really dark. There will be more deaths in the next chapter. And they won't be my OC's._

 _Little notes on the references - Bonney's mythological reference in this chapter was extremely vague. I couldn't work in the whole tale in this chapter, but I'll elaborate on it more at the end of the arc. The main reference were the apples carved into her throne, a symbol of the goddess Idunn (or Ithunn), who provided the gods with the apples that gave them their long lifespans. Without her apples, they would grow old and die. I connected Bonney to her because of her abilities that can either make someone younger or older._

 _The other reference was the mention of Loki's daughter near the end. Hel rules the domain of Hel and Niflhel. There is a lot of complexity and confusion in all the places that the dead can go in Norse mythology. Valhalla (or Valholl) is probably the simplest, if only because it is so well known. But there are more places to go, depending on how you die, though even that can be negotiable. Hel is somewhat a default place. Niflhel is the cold underbelly where a soul is essentially extinguished (you don't want to go to Niflhel). But HEL is... possibly not so bad? Possibly a sorting area where the ruler will send you off to Helgafell or some other hall to reside in what amounts to an extension of your life on Midgard. Some stories say that Hel is quite kind to those she rules over. It's not a wonderful place, but she loves the dead and decay and rot, so she won't be particularly cruel unless your death warranted a painful afterlife. The afterlife is weird and ruled over by multiple gods in some capacity. Even Ran, who takes drowned sailors, is good to them, allows them to view their own funeral before taking them to her hall and later giving them to Hel, who she is very close friends with. Thor is known to take slaves into his hall when they die and is seen as the god of the common man, so it's possible that others can go to him in the afterlife. Of course Freyja has her field and hall. There was a tale of a king that was venerated as an elf after his death, thus implying he went to Alfheim, which is ruled by Freyr. The concept of an afterlife is very personal and there isn't any set 'heaven' or 'hell' or 'purgatory', it's all just some sort of extension of how you lived before, possibly with some reward or punishment if you are particularly deserving of it. *shrugs*_

 _Anyway, last note is on Nami's behavior in this toward the end because I feel that might cause some alarm - Remember that she struck Chabo (that boy from Gosa Village) when he wanted to fight Arlong for killing his father. She has no qualms with hitting a child if it's meant to save their life (just like Cora did by throwing Law out a window, ahahaha). Basically Nami is shifting to 'Arlong-Nami' to cope with the circumstances she's in. I'm sure you'll all understand the change and the reasons for it._

 _I was going to title this 'E_ _nsam är stark' (Alone is strong - basically, you can accomplish a lot on your own), the Swedish saying that fits this arc, but it didn't fit as the title for only this chapter. For those that missed my tumblr pics from my trip, I got it tattooed on my arm while in Manchester. XD_


	26. Chapter 26

_Warnings: Graphic violence, gore, character death._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Storm_

Time became elusive in the fury of war. The world stood still in the moment his sword rang off another, then sped up in a flurry of motion until steel rent through armor and flesh, when time seemed to freeze yet again.

He didn't know how much time he had left. He didn't know what would come when time ran out. Would they find victory? Would they see defeat? Would he live long enough to see the outcome? Would she be lost to them forever?

He pushed himself to his limits with every foe he fought. The tales out of Oslofjord told of a mad king with an army of goats, endless in number and replenished once the battle was done. He needed to slay as many as he could, as quickly as he could. He couldn't allow one soldier to stand, not if that soldier would be the one who took his life and took her away.

In the throes of battle, he forgot her decision. He could not fight at his fullest if he thought it would be for naught. He could not think that they would lose, that she would leave. He had to fight for victory and nothing less. He couldn't even think about what she might be doing with each moment that passed and every warrior he fell. He could only hope that she had fled, gotten far away from the bloodshed; to safety.

He didn't keep track of the number he slew. The world moved too fast between strikes to bother remembering. All he knew was that he ran through a sea of death, his swords running red with blood, and still more enemies stood in his way.

Killer was exhausted, but he would not fall. Every breath he took stung as he gulped in putrid air, polluted by the smoke and foul odors around him. His eyes burned from the sweat and blood, but he would not dare blink to relieve them. His arms felt heavy, weighted down with exertion, but he strained for just one more ounce of strength to slash down yet another warrior-goat.

His tunic and trousers were slashed, his hair and hands and face stained red with blood. He knew most belonged to those he butchered, but the pain he ignored in his side warned that some of it was his.

A scream rang out over the village and his head snapped up. It wasn't the first scream he heard that day and he knew it would not be the last. He had raced toward every shout and scream and alarm that day, hoping to find an enemy slain, not another of their people lost to a senseless war. Thus far, none had been an enemy, not until he ran them threw with his sword.

This time he knew better than to hope as a rumble of thunder carried over the fjord. The time for hope had run out. All he could do was continue to fight.

He found the source of the scream outside the forge. He could no longer recognize the blacksmith's face as it smoldered. His fair skin was charred deep black. His hair singed to his scalp. His clothes torn and burned to reveal seared flesh and sinew and white bone. All around the yard were slain warriors, none burned as he was. They had fallen at his sword, but the blade laid on the ground, out of his reach, shattered to the hilt. The man who inevitably defeated the smith stood among the corpses, admiring a long sword as though not in the midst of war.

Killer's anger overcame his exertion and he rushed headlong into yet another battle. The man he faced had short black hair, a wiry mustache, and dark olive skin. The cropped hair might have had him mistaken as a slave, but the fur lining his heavy orange tunic and trousers, and the thick chainmail he spied beneath, said this man was a soldier, one given far more luxury than any slave. When he turned on his heel and blocked Killer's first strike with no outward sign of effort or fear, Killer knew this man was no goat.

He had heard of the priests the king kept. His strongest warriors. They rarely tasted defeat, but Killer was determined to see that this one fell, once and for all.

As the priest held Killer's first blade against his longsword, he stared straight into Killer's eyes, wearing a wry smile as though he found great amusement in his foe. Killer growled and swung his second blade, but his opponent leaped away before he could even slice his tunic.

"I have heard of you," the priest said as he stepped away from another strike and blocked the next. "You are Jarl Eustass' cousin, are you not? You're protecting the woman we seek, but she is already lost to you. You fight for nothing. She fell into the king's hand the moment your jarl fled."

Killer said nothing and lunged for another attack. His slashes were blocked and dodged with such ease it infuriated him. He had to heed reason, though. No matter how tired he was, no matter how much his body ached, he could not fall too deeply to his own temper. He had to defeat this man. Even if all else was lost that day, if he could cripple the king's forces by just one priest, he could turn the eventual tide of war in their favor.

At least he hoped he could.

"King Enel foresaw a golden cat running for the river," the priest continued to say.

Killer had to dodge when his opponent shifted his stance and attacked, jabbing his sword toward Killer's open side. He felt the bite of steel on his skin and grimaced as one touch sent fire lancing up his side. What sort of sword was he wielding?

"If she went to the river, then my fellow priests have already taken her," the priest said as he slashed down on Killer's shoulder. Killer raised his sword and caught the strike before it could tear into him. The priest pushed down on with such force, Killer could only stand there and brace himself under the weight. He could feel his back bowing, his legs burning with effort. It took all the strength he had left to hold the man back. "If she went west, toward the mountains, then another priest will be there to await her. And if she took to the sea…" The priest smiled as thunder boomed overhead and a drop of rain splashed upon Killer's brow. "Then my king will greet her, himself."

Killer grit his teeth, spun his second blade in his hand to grip it in reverse, keeping the edge out, and then slashed up. He caught the priest by surprise as the blade sliced up his side, cutting through wool and striking the mail beneath with enough force to make the man jump away, clutching his side. He drew no blood, but the strike had to leave a bruise that would hinder him, even if only for a second. Killer wasted no time sprinting at the priest and aimed a cut at the man's neck, where no mail would impede him. His slash was knocked away, but Killer expected it and answered with a jab with his second sword.

The strike went low, sliced into a vulnerable thigh. Blood stained the priest's trousers as he yelped in pain and staggered back. His opponent turned serious, his wry smile lost to a sneer, and dug his heels in to launch at Killer.

The silence that came in their battle would have been welcomed, but without the barbed words spurring his rage, Killer was left to feel the weight of every strike and block and cut. The pommel of the priest's sword struck his injured side and sent him reeling back toward the smithy. The priest took the opening as he slashed and slashed and slashed, and all Killer could do was defend every strike while losing what little ground he had.

A blade shattered like glass. The other was notched and dulled. The priest kicked him in his stomach and Killer flew into the smithy, his back slamming into the stone forge. Pain screamed up his shoulder and he lost his remaining sword. His head had smacked the stone and left him disoriented. The world spun as he tried to find his feet. He reached for a surface to brace himself on and seared his hand on the forge before falling back to the ground.

He blinked away black stars and tried to remember where he was when someone snagged the collar of his tunic. Two identical faces swam before him and blurred into one. He remembered the war he fought as he stared at the priest pulling him off the ground, but the details of his battle floated just out of his reach.

He was shoved back, a sword piercing his shoulder and a malevolent smile hovering above him. He was held to the forge, his left side pushed into the glowing embers. The scent of burned wool and hair came first, then the overpowering stench of seared flesh as the fire caught his arm, and he screamed.

The pain was blinding. Fire filled his veins, burned him to his core. The world became shrouded in shadows and flame. The sword twisted and he screamed again.

Over the crackling fire licking over his arm and side, he could hear the deep beat of drums, the rhythm blending with the earth quaking thunder of the storm upon them. A shadow coalesced above him. A somber frown reminiscent of Nami's greeted him. He was losing this battle. He was losing the one spark of hope Nami had instilled in him.

He could not fail.

With an enraged shout, he grappled with his free hand until it found the smooth shaft of the smith's hammer. He swung with strength he should not have and caught the priest on the temple. The shadows danced with the flames as the priest crashed to the floor. The smoke rising from the embers swirled with the wind blowing in through the open door. His tunic smoldered, his arm still felt as though it were aflame, but Killer set his fading sight on the disoriented priest writhing before him.

The shadow fell upon the priest at the same time Killer brought the iron hammer down on his skull in a shower of blood that glistened in the firelight.

The valkyries brought him victory with that one strike. The hammer slipped from his hand at the same time the priest collapsed for the last time, his body lifeless, save for the dying twitch of a foot.

Killer stumbled outside. The battle was not over. One victory would not turn the tide of that day. But his body trembled, his breath came ragged and short, his vision flickered in and out, and he fell to his knees in a blood red puddle. Rain poured down overhead and doused the last of the flames on his tunic. The water burned as if he had been thrust back into the fire, lit the blaze in his veins anew. His chest ached as the pain stole away his breath.

He fell forward into the mud as panic clawed at his throat. He needed to breathe. He needed to move. He needed to live.

He clawed at the mud with his good hand, tried to drag himself forward. He could hear someone splashing through puddles, stepping over rain soaked soil. They were coming toward him and the drums were beating louder, the thunder deafening him.

A leather boot stepped on his hand with a clatter of gold rings and chains that dangled from their ankle. Killer still tried to pull himself forward until the blunt end of a golden spear pressed to his forehead. He strained to adjust his eyes, fought against the fog and shadows threatening to overtake him, and peered up at whoever loomed over him.

The man was clad, head to foot, in gold that flashed bright in the lightning splitting the sky behind him. His trousers and tunic made of finely spun blue wool and trimmed with vibrant bands of twisting gold thread. His dark leather war belt was woven with golden rings to match those at his ankles and wrists. A slender gold chain hung around his neck with the hammer of Thor swaying from it. His ears were pierced with heavy gold earrings that tugged down on the flesh, stretching his earlobes to his shoulders. And his short blond hair was covered by a white cloth, trimmed with fine thread in gold and blue and orange.

He looked every bit the king he proclaimed himself to be, dressed too finely for war.

Enel's bored gaze swept around the smithy's yard. His lips tugged into the slightest of frowns as he glanced at the building behind him.

"I see you defeated Shura," he said, tone flat and apathetic. He would not shed a tear for a fallen priest. Killer doubted he cared enough to think of the man again. "I would invite you to replace him, but you are barely alive and I have another in mind already."

Killer's throat was raw, but he managed to growl.

"I suppose I should just put you out of your misery." Enel spun his spear and aimed to strike him down. Killer willed himself to move, to twist aside. He could not die there. Not that day. Not until Kid returned. "You are a fool if you think to stand against a god. You should have just handed her to me from the start."

Killer shut his eyes as the golden tip flew down at him.

"Stop," screamed a voice on the wind and lightning. Killer doubted the king would listen and waited for the spear to pierce his flesh. He waited and waited and waited, but nothing came and he could hear people approaching. "I'm already yours," the person called and Killer's eyes snapped open to see Nami there, glaring at the king with those cold eyes that made him uneasy the day before.

No, they weren't cold. They trembled with fear, no matter how hard she scowled to hide it.

"You've won. There is no more need of this butchery," Nami said, her hands clenched at her sides to mask how they shook.

The king's weight left his hand, but the spear still hovered in front of his face. A warning. If he moved, he was dead.

"Lady Nami," Enel greeted. "I am glad to see you have more sense than these wolves pretending to be your guardians." He stepped toward her and laughed, his bored expression broken with the unexpected moment of cheer. "You were right to give in to your fear. If you had done otherwise it would have been annoying."

Nami pursed her lips and stubbornly held the king's gaze. Her face was pale, her eyes rimmed red, but she forced herself to stand tall and strong.

"Since you have surrendered yourself, then let's leave. I promised to have you in Oslo before nightfall," Enel said as he turned for the dock.

"I have a chest packed in the hall," Nami said.

Enel glanced over her and nodded to the men that lingered near her. "Fetch her chest," he ordered.

"My cloak, too," Nami added.

The bald man bowed his head and spun toward the hall while Enel began to lead the rest away. Nami spared him a quick look. He saw the muscles around her jaw twitch, her hands squeezed tight, and he was left to wonder if the water trailing over her cheek was a tear or the rain.

"Wait, King Enel," a man bellowed, approaching from the western woods.

Enel looked back with a curious hum. His brow rose as Ove came into view, a bloody axe in hand and the broken shafts of three arrows jutting from his shoulder. His gaze was hard on the king, his grip tight around the axe shaft, and Enel turned to face him fully.

"Do we have another foolish wolf seeking to fight me?" Enel mused. "It's futile. You should follow your lady's example and give up."

Ove sneered. "I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to join you."

"Ove," Killer growled, digging his fingers into the mud as he glared at the Dane.

"Join me?" Enel cocked his head to the side and lifted a brow.

"I understand you will recruit any that can defeat your priests," Ove said as he reached behind his back and tossed a head at the King.

Nami failed to stifle her gasp as the head rolled through the mud toward them. Enel stared with the same apathetic gaze he wore when he spied Shura's fallen body in the smith. The head wore an expression of frozen shock, his dark eyes wide and mouth gaping. His dark skin was ashen with death. His thick coiled hair soaked with fresh blood and rain.

"Gedatsu," Enel muttered.

"I defeated your priest and still stand." Ove nodded toward Killer, pointing out that he was unable to stand after his victory. Killer sneered and wished he could feel his limbs long enough to find his feet again. "I wish to replace him."

"Normally I would rejoice such an offer," Enel said, narrowing his cold gaze on Ove. "But this is war and I know you wolves are loyal to your leader. Why should I trust that your interest is genuine? For all I know, you will bury your axe in my skull the moment I turn my back to you."

"My _leader_ abandoned us to fight this war alone. A war we would not have to face if not for his decision to bring that witch into his hall." Ove pointed his axe toward Nami and sneered at her. She glared back. "He took on a curse when he brought her under his protection. He has shown that he is not strong enough to break it, and I feel no loyalty to a man so weak."

Nami's eyes widened before she bowed her head to hide the pained expression Killer caught flickering over her face. The corner of Enel's mouth tugged into the slightest smirk, but he said nothing.

"I am a mercenary. My loyalty is to gold and strength, and from what I have gathered this day, you have an abundance of both. If you still think to mistrust my intentions, then I will make a deal with you. If I should ever betray you, no matter how slight the infraction, you may take my right hand as blood payment," Ove offered.

Enel threw his head back with a long laugh while Nami chewed on her lip and tried to mask the quivering of her hands. Killer could do nothing but watch, powerless to stop Ove or ease Nami's fears.

"I am no great wolf, but I cannot refuse such an offer. All right, you may join my ranks as a new priest," Enel agreed, just as the bald priest returned with Nami's chest hoisted on his shoulder and her cloak in his grasp. "Satori," the king addressed the portly, red-haired priest, "send word to the rest of the army that the battle is won. Order them to return to Oslofjord at once."

The priest bowed his agreement and unstrapped a war horn that hung from his belt. He walked off bellowing short blasts into the horn, signaling the troops still battling throughout the fjord.

"If you survive your wounds, pass a message to your jarl," Enel said, staring down at him. "I will claim this village and land as my own. He will bend his knee, enforce my laws, and collect my taxes from the people here. If he insists on rebelling my rule, then I will see him hung. Lady Nami's surrender has bought this village a reprieve, do not let your jarl spit in the face of her decision and squander my mercy."

He did not wait for Killer to acknowledge him as he walked toward the fjord. The bald priest followed after him, but Nami and Ove hung back, both staring after the king.

"I'm sorry," Nami whispered, her eyes squeezed shut. "Please don't die, Killer."

He groaned and tried to respond, but his voice stuck in his throat. Nami spun away to hurry after the king, her head still bowed. Exhaustion overtook him as he watched her go. His vision grew foggy and dark until all he could see was the fire of her hair on the wind.

Footsteps splashed in the puddles around him as the world turned black. His body still screamed in pain, but the blissful darkness made him unaware of everything beyond the hand touching his head.

"You fought well. Now rest for the battles ahead," a man whispered. "She will be well cared for until then."

A falcon cried out overhead. His consciousness faded with the next rumble of thunder, his final thought a prayer for the gods to stay with her until they could find her again.

* * *

The afternoon grew late as he sat atop his perch on the wall. The people went about their days in the village below, but every so often, they stopped to gaze toward the hills and fjord, anticipating the return of their king and his army. He had thought to join the forces sent with the king to Drafn, but he had no interest in Enel's wars. He had his own plans and it would be best to reserve his strength for the day he needed it.

And he wanted to observe these giants that came for the young lady he sought.

Corazon had spent the day piecing together what interest these men could have in her. He tried to strike up a conversation with their leader, Chew, but he took one glimpse at the cross hanging from his neck and turned away with a sneer of disgust. His attempt at questioning the other giants was met with the same reaction. Fortunately, he was not spit upon, the day could have turned ugly if they had, but he could see the desire in their eyes to show their disgust with more than coldness. It appeared they held as much contempt for the Christian faith encroaching on the northern lands as the king did.

Yet they so freely worked with the rat, Nezumi. Corazon stepped carefully around the merchant lord, unwillingly to betray his disguise too soon, but he took it upon himself to eavesdrop as often as he could. He learned enough about the relationship between the giants and rats to know that gold and jewels were Nezumi's gods. He was a Christian in name only.

Corazon found him far more contemptible than most of Christians he had known.

He gave up his attempt at gathering information when he heard the scream of a falcon over the fjord. It was pointless to worry about the giants loitering about the hall. He would learn about their jarl from Lady Nami when she arrived and judge if he would be an obstacle later.

He journeyed out to the yard to watch the falcon fly over the village. No one bothered to look up, none thought much of a single bird among many. But Corazon had seen a falcon watching over Drafn and knew it for the herald it was. When the bird swooped down to perch on the intricate dragon's head looming over the entrance to the king's hall, he knew that the battle was won and the amber-haired woman would be there soon.

He kept his excitement to himself as he climbed the wooden stairs leading to the hall's watch towers. McKinley's guards scrutinized him but said nothing as he found the highest perch he could and stared out over the water.

She was so close to being in his grasp. He would have to hold to patience a while longer, but he was one step closer to his ultimate objective.

From his perch on the turret's eave, Corazon could see the rest of McKinley's forces sweeping through the village. Many stood sentinel at the docks while others stopped to speak with wary villagers. All kept a hand on the hilt of a sword or axe, their backs straight and stiff. He had noticed that the guards around the hall were armed, even those not on duty at the gate. They paced within the main reception room, keeping a watchful eye on their guests.

They were anticipating the king's return as much as he was.

He was not surprised to hear the first signal horn echo off the islands in the fjord. He remained on his perch while the village came to life. McKinley stood at the dock and bellowed into his own horn, returning the signal with two short blasts. One of the guards left the gate to announce the king's impending arrival to the guests. They all filed out of the hall shortly after, Chew leading the way with a pursed frown.

"He better have her," he heard the giant mutter to Nezumi. "I have no more patience left in this search."

"I'm sure he was successful," Nezumi promised. His tittering laugh sounded nervous.

"If he failed to find her there, it will be your head, not mine, so you better hope he was successful," Chew said. Nezumi laughed again, the sound weak and pitiful. "Kuroobi is right. This woman is more trouble than she's worth."

"But Jarl Arlong needs her if he hopes to conquer Normandy and Francia. She is a valuable asset, even if an annoying one," Nezumi reminded before they got too far for Corazon to hear the rest of their conversation.

 _So, he seeks to conquer Normandy? He might be a useful pawn, as well,_ Corazon thought to himself.

Another horn blast came louder as the giants and rats and soldiers congregated around the water's edge. Corazon waited until they were all in place before climbing down from the wall. He kept his head down, veiled by the hood of his black cloak, as he slipped between villagers. Unlike the soldiers and giants, the villagers quietly made their way from the main square and marketplace. Children were gathered and shushed, wares packed away and hoisted onto backs. Doors shut and an eerie silence overtook Oslo's center.

Corazon lingered away from the others, just up the slope from the docks and beach, to watch as the first serpentine figurehead appeared. One by one, Enel's fleet rounded the bend. Corazon felt the four ships were unnecessary for the battle, especially considering the forces he sent to Drafn by way of land, but Enel wouldn't have listened to him if he voiced his opinion, so he kept it to himself. The excessive show of force at least led them to a swift victory, ensuring that Enel kept his promise of returning before nightfall.

He strained his eyes to see the occupants of Enel's longship. The king stood near the stern while Ohm steered the ship toward the dock. He spied her seated in front of the king, just to his left, her head bowed and cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders to protect her from the drizzling rain that hung over the bay after an earlier storm, but the bright orange hair was unmistakable.

Chew recognized her in an instant and muscled his way between Enel's militia to stand at the end of the dock, his scowl deepening. As the ship drew close enough for Corazon to make out expressions, he noticed Enel say something before Nami's head snapped up. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, then turned somber and resigned, and then cold as ice, her emotions sealed away in the face of the giants that claimed her as their own.

Corazon crept in closer.

"Nami," Chew called to her. "I hope you have been well."

His greeting was insincere, another meaning to his words that Nami surely understood judging by the harsh glare she sent him. Enel only laughed at the chilly exchange.

As his men secured his ship, Enel disembarked first, followed by Ohm and a man with lavender hair Corazon remembered seeing in Drafn. He was supposed to be one of Jarl Eustass', but he didn't appear to be a captive of any sort. He didn't acknowledge Nami's existence as Corazon would have expected. He ignored her as he climbed out ahead of her, by all accounts treating her far colder than Corazon had witnessed among Eustass' men. A traitor, then?

Nami came last, helped onto the dock by McKinley's outstretched hand. The militia captain waved her toward Chew and she grew resigned again as she stepped into place beside the king.

Corazon noticed that Nami was finely dressed. Her hair was braided and tied back, though the battle had left bits to fall loose. Her fair complexion was smudged with dirt and blood, and her lower lip seemed swollen, even from a distance. She appeared as someone who had expected to greet royalty that day and dressed appropriately, leaving him to wonder if she had anticipated Enel's coming. The king had mentioned that her clan was known to have foresight, just as he claimed to have. Perhaps she foresaw the battle.

"As promised, I have returned with the Lady Nami," Enel said, speaking loud enough for all to hear. "The wolves are defeated for the moment, and Drafn is as good as mine."

"I congratulate you on your victory," Chew said without inflection, his whole attention on Nami. "We will leave you and your troops to celebrate. We have a long journey back to Tingstad and I do not wish to keep Arlong waiting any longer."

Corazon watched Nami's shoulders straighten. Her chin tilted up in a show of arrogance, while her gaze remained dark. Whatever fear or sadness she felt was hidden once more.

"Has he taken my absence out on the village again?" she asked, her tone sharp and rebuking.

"Not the _whole_ village." Chew smiled for the first time as Nami flinched noticeably. "Only the people that matter."

She recovered quickly and curled her lip in an ugly sneer. She stepped forward with her fists balled tight and prepared to say something else to Chew. Enel raised a hand to cut her off and gracefully stepped in her way, his gaze on the giant.

"This bickering is pointless," Enel interjected. "And you will not be going anywhere this night."

Chew and Nami both turned shocked looks toward the king.

"I do not have the time to waste in this village any longer. I need to return her to her rightful home," Chew argued.

Enel smiled. "It seems there has been a misunderstanding," he said before shifting his weight. Chew had no time to understand what was happening. None of the giants or rats could anticipate Enel's actions soon enough to stop him. In the blink of an eye, Enel's golden spear pierced through Chew's bowels. "I merely stated that I would fetch the girl. I never said anything about you leaving with her," Enel explained as Chew gasped and clutched at the spear impaling him.

Enel twisted the spear and Chew cried out in pain as fresh blood flowed over a golden shaft. The sharp tip of the spear thrust out of the giant's back with one push and Chew coughed up more blood.

Nami stood by, mouth agape in shock.

To Corazon's delight, chaos erupted upon the beach and docks.

The traitor from Drafn grasped Nami and yanked her back as men from the ship gathered around them with shields locked tight in a wall. The warriors on the other ships stood with arrows knocked and let loose on the giants and rats milling about the beach, while the McKinley's militia laid into more with swords and axes and spears.

There was no battle, only butchery. The sea ran red with the blood of fish and rats, the sand and rocks of the beach stained to match.

Corazon watched the slaughter patiently until he noticed a man crawling on his stomach through the sand. Nezumi's face was covered in blood, but he appeared uninjured. The coward was abandoning his own men and allies to save his own skin. He was even worse than a rat.

Too panicked to pay attention to his surroundings, Nezumi scrambled out of the throng of warriors and dying men without looking up once. Corazon stopped his escape with a boot to his head. Nezumi let out a frightened squeak as Corazon slowly drew his sword and flinched away from the blade as he teased it over the man's cheek.

"I see I've found a rat fleeing the sinking ship," Corazon mused.

Nezumi slowly gazed up at him with a nervous smile. "Please… Please spare me. Have mercy on my soul." He grasped Corazon's ankle and tugged at his trousers. "Please, I beg of you. I will reward you with all the gold you could desire, just please let me leave unharmed."

Corazon nicked him with his sword as he hummed in thought. The chaos was beginning to calm as the last bodies fell into the sea.

A bay of dead fish. Just as Enel foresaw.

"Please," Nezumi squeaked. "Please. Please. Please…"

"Corazon," Enel called to him, distracting him from the pathetic, whimpering man groveling at his feet. "What have you there?"

"Just a rat," he responded as he looked up to see the king approaching. Nami was trembling behind him, her wide eyes taking in the carnage around her. Bodies littered the beach and sea. People she once knew and lived with, even if in captivity, were dead or dying at the hands of a fearsome king.

But then her gaze cast up to him and she froze in place. The Drafn traitor ran into her back and growled at her, giving her a hard shove to snap her from her surprise.

She shouldn't recognize him. He had been in a monk's robes in England, not Danish clothes and a feathered cloak. The fear and uncertainty in her gaze told him that she might still see him for who he was, or at least be suspicious. The druid had warned him of this, too.

Taking a risk, Corazon cast off the hood of his cloak and smiled at the woman. Her breath caught, her eyes searched his face, a glimmer of confusion mixed with recognition in her gaze.

Nezumi gasped at his feet. "Trafalgar…"

Corazon kicked him in the face to silence him. Blood flowed from a split lip as Nezumi sneered up at him, but he wisely held his tongue. He was at his mercy, after all.

"Why have you not killed the rat?" Enel asked, his brow cocked.

"I was just thinking… Rats have their uses," he explained. Enel's head tilted to the side in silent question. "I much prefer frogs for dissection, but a rat makes for decent study."

Nezumi's face paled at his words.

"I wish to keep him alive for a while. If you mean to use my skills as a doctor in the future, it would be wise not to grow lax in my practice. When I am finished with him, I will dispose of him," Corazon said.

Enel chuckled. "Do what you want, then," he said, waving him off as he began to climb the hill toward his hall. "McKinley will find you some fetters. Once you have secured him as you need to, then feel free to join us in the hall for a meal tonight."

The invitation was surprising, but Corazon would not turn down a chance to speak with Lady Nami. Before Corazon could accept the invitation, Enel laughed, the joyous sound echoing throughout the village.

"Tonight, we celebrate my victory," he called out, eliciting cheers from his soldiers. Corazon watched as Nami followed Enel, despondent and emotionless. Her gaze flickered to him as she passed and her frown grew suspicious, but Enel's next announcement prevented her from speaking to him. "As well as the arrival of my new priestess - the woman who will be queen."

Corazon shared in Nami's shock as they stared after the king's back.

It seemed fleeing Noreg with her would be more difficult than he first thought.

* * *

Nami stood in the reception room of Enel's hall, staring in awe at the gilded walls and rafters. She had never seen so much gold.

"Magnificent, isn't it," Enel said, though his tone didn't speak of the same awe she felt. He could have been commenting on the weather, his voice was so droll. "This is hardly all you need to see."

She shook out of her stupor as Enel walked ahead and hurried to catch up. He led her through a narrow hall, decorated with fine tapestries of serpents flying through lightning streaked skies. Golden sconces along the wall provided light and warmth. He pointed out the hall's food stores and the room dedicated as a kitchen. He didn't want his servants to be seen in the reception hall unless they were serving their meal, not as they were preparing it. The large room was bursting with activity, servants rushing in and out as they hurried to make all the dishes of Enel's feast. They kept their heads bowed and avoided the king's gaze as they passed. One walked out with a fruit laden tray and Enel snatched an apple on their way by.

Guest chambers were found near the back, two large open spaces that appeared to be rarely used. The rooms were dark and smelled of dust, but Nami could see chests lined along the walls and pallets without bedding. There were tables with empty basins and chamber pots, candle holders without candles, and no decorations to speak of.

"The former king invited more guests into this hall," Enel explained as he continued through a door that led out into a courtyard filled with rowan trees, their white flowers blooming among bright red berries. Roofed walkways split from a back porch, buttressed by intricately carved and painted pillars in the forms of falcons and dragons and serpents. "I prefer to house guests away from my property. Your sea giants were kept in the stables and Corazon resides in the former king's farm house."

"Why do you keep the rooms, then? Why not use them for other purposes?" Nami dared to ask.

"If I find another purpose to them, then I will use them." He shrugged and then gestured toward a walkway on the left. "There is a bathhouse and outhouse that way. A walkway is built from there to the hall with your quarters, but there is a chamber pot and tub in your rooms if you do not wish to make the trek in the winter."

The thought of being there through the winter created a hollow pit in her stomach. She hoped she would not have to stay here for that long.

Enel pointed to the right walkway. "The hall my priests reside in is that way. They have a separate bathhouse, so you have no need to worry about them invading ours."

"Ours?" she asked, prompting him to look over his shoulder at her with a raised brow. "And, if I am a new priestess, should I not be with the priests?"

"No, you will reside in my hall." He pointed down the center path. "There are additional quarters I have not seen fit to use, but I feel would suit your station better than the priests' hall."

He turned down the walkway and left her with no other choice but to follow. She wasn't happy with the thought of residing so close to the king, not after his announcement in the square. What could he have possibly meant by proclaiming her a future queen? He couldn't possibly mean…

"King Enel?" she prompted, hoping her voice wasn't trembling as much as she thought it was.

"Hmm?"

"About my station… You said that I will be your new priestess… But also the future queen? What do you mean by that?"

"If you are asking if I mean to marry you, the answer is no," he explained flatly. "For now, you only need to concern yourself with your duties as my priestess. I can tell that you still have much to learn about your magic. Once you have reached your full potential, then I shall crown you queen."

"If I will be queen, but unmarried to you, then what will happen to you? You do not strike me as the type to hand over power so easily." She knew this man was supposed to be mad, but she couldn't even begin to comprehend his thought process. "Would I be a consort?"

"When you become queen, you will rule beneath me," he answered unhelpfully. "And I will truly be a god."

This man was insane if he thought himself a god.

"It was not long ago that our people bowed to those closest to the gods. Kings and Earls and Jarls, they did not exist as they do today. The chieftains were the god-speakers, the law-makers. The vǫlur, such as your family, were revered and respected, given seats of great honor in every hall they visited. They were not expected to marry, though some did find warlords to bind themselves to matrimony if they desired it. Your clan was born of a great goddess and a man who would have been king if not for the tragic fate he met. In an act of devotion to Hnoss' loss, your foremothers shunned all thoughts of marriage, refusing to be tied down to any that would not compare to the standards of the man who gave his life for their matriarch."

She gasped in surprise at hearing him speak of the tale that should be known to no one but herself and those she chose to tell. "How do you know of that tale?"

"My great-great grandfather was a sire for your clan. He was the one who attempted to destroy the Christians in Birka in honor of your family," he explained. "It may be distant, but we are cousins and I have seen and heard far more than you have on this subject.

They came into a hall as grand and opulent as the main building, with a large sitting room decorated in silk and gold to greet them. Enel passed through to a passageway that branched off in two directions. "My chambers are that way," he said, pointing to the right before turning to the left. A servant greeted them outside the door to her quarters. "There should be a basin with water for you to clean up. Ohm should be bringing your clothes shortly, but I've already had my servants gather new dresses for you to wear. You need to dress in finer garb befitting one of my priests, not such humble wool your wolf provided."

Nami pursed her lips at the slight toward Kid, but restrained the impulse to defend him, nodding politely. "I would be honored to wear anything you so graciously provide."

Enel chuckled as he led her into the room and threw himself onto a cushioned bench in the sitting room. He reclined back as she took in the silk tapestries and gold accents. Jewels hung from the ceiling and scattered the candlelight so that tiny rainbows danced over the walls. It was as though she were in the middle of a treasure chest.

"As I was saying earlier," Enel spoke up as she peeked through a door to find a gilded bedroom with a large, fur-covered bed. The posts were carved with flowers and vines, reaching up to an ornately painted wooden canopy. "Your ancestry is of the gods, more than any other vǫlva or royal family can claim. Through the connection between our clans, you can boast ancestry to Thor, with the very power of lightning running through your veins. And I have no doubt that other sires have ties to other gods. You are the embodiment of the Vanir, and their marriage to the Aesir. There is no one closer to the gods than you, and thus you are most fit to be queen."

"And then what will you do as God?" she asked as she went to the table with a basin of water. A bar of soap sat beside it that had a sweet, tangy scent that rekindled memories of her childhood.

Jarl Genzo had returned from a trip to Hedeby with a basket of bright orange fruit. He had traded with some Andalusian merchants for them to give to Bellemere, who had grown fond of the fruit during her time in Francia. Nami had heard of the fruit, the apples from China, but the climate in the north was too inhospitable for the fruit trees to take, so it was rare to find. One taste was all it took for her to fall in love with the citrus fruit. It might as well have been made of gold, though, for how difficult it was to attain.

Of course a king with such a gilded hall would have orange scented soap. Everything in his hall spoke of wealth she once could only dream of.

"As God," Enel called to her, breaking her from a moment of nostalgia, "I will take you on a journey to find a new kingdom."

"A journey?" she asked, her voice pitched high in surprise. She couldn't go on a journey, not with him. She needed to stay there and wait for Kid to find her again.

"I have seen the endless lands to the west," Enel explained. "Have you heard the tales of Erik the Red's son, Leif? They claim that he found lands further west from Greenland and named them Vinland, but they speak nothing of the lands beyond it, further south and west. I have seen that there are great stretches of endless earth, fertile and ripe for use. I will find these lands and create a colony for you to rule over as queen. You will lead armies in my name, conquer all the lands before you, and raise up a kingdom more powerful than the old empires of Rome and the Byzantines. I will be venerated as the God that gave you and your people such a gift, the one who led you to glory, and thus a new cult will be born that worships me as their one true sovereign."

"What of our gods? What of our ancestors here in the north? Will you not insult them by raising yourself above them?" she asked before cleaning the filth and blood of battle from her face and hands. She could use a hot bath, but the basin was refreshing enough.

"They will have no say in this new kingdom. We will be out of their reach. And by that time, I will have proved myself worthy of such a title. I will have restored their beloved daughter to the glory she should have known from birth, shattered the curse that laid waste to her family, and garnered her support for my journey. With you at my side, no god or mortal shall stand in my way."

So, she would be used for his own aspirations. He thought to shatter the curse, but he was just another man in a long line of men that sought to use her for his own selfish desires. He would call her queen and gift her with gold and jewels, but she would be no better than a slave in his eyes.

"All you expect of me is to lead a new religion in your name? You have no other desires for me?" she asked, drying her face as she stepped into the sitting room.

Enel cocked a brow. "I have concubines to see to my baser needs, if that is what you fear I will ask of you. And if I married you, that would elevate you to a goddess, and I have no need of a goddess. I need only a queen to command my armies and a priestess to pay tribute to me."

That much was a relief, though she remained wary of his intentions. He could be lying, or perhaps his desires would change in the future. "And what will you do?"

He smiled. "I will be free to do whatever I please and nothing less." Enel stood from the bench and made his way to the door. "I will leave you to finish preparing for the feast."

Nami let out a relieved breath once she was alone, only the servant quietly standing in the corner to keep her company. The woman had silky blonde hair tied in two twisting coils that hung long over her shoulders. Her fair skin was cleaner than the other servants she saw in the main hall, and her soft pink dress made of well-spun wool, with red flowers embroidered along the left side of the bodice and skirt did not fit with the plain, rough spun dresses the others wore.

"What is your name?" Nami asked the woman.

"Conis, my lady," she answered with a genuinely kind smile.

"You do not look like any normal servant. Are you a free-woman?"

Conis nodded, then pursed her lips. "The king desired a higher class of handmaiden for you. McKinley has heard me play my lyre while my father worked and recommended me to King Enel. There was no refusing him when he summoned for me last night."

"Where did you sleep last night? Has he provided you chambers nearby?"

Conis shook her head. "I slept with the other servants. They have a small shelter just off the main hall, out of sight, that the king keeps them in." Nami hummed in thought as she saw the sadness in her servant's eyes. The woman wrung her hands in front of her and gestured toward the bedroom. "Shall I help you dress? King Enel will be disappointed if his new priestess wore such soiled clothes to his feast."

Nami did not want to imagine what that disappointment would entail. "Thank you," she said, smiling.

Once stripped of her soiled dress, Nami sat on a stool and washed away more of the grim and blood that clung to her arms while Conis took down her hair to comb. The tension of the day ebbed with every gentle sweep of the comb, but did nothing to stop the loneliness of her situation from creeping in. She might be surrounded by all the treasure she could ever desire, but the gold may well be tarnished steel, the gems plain stones. Without her friends, they meant nothing to her.

She ran her fingers over her gold bracelet, searching for the strength she needed to face this test on her own, and then the largest of amber stones set into her leather bracelet, vowing to find her way to freedom once again. She could not break. She could not waver. She would find a way, even if she was alone. And she would have faith that her friends would find their own way without her. If fate was kind, if she walked her path, then she was certain that she would see them all again.

"Conis," she said as the handmaid finished sprinkling braids among the thick waves of her hair. "I want you to sleep in here from now on."

"Excuse me, Lady Nami. In here?"

"I don't like sleeping alone, and I have more need of a friend than a handmaid," she explained. "You seem like a kind woman that I can rely on in this strange place."

"You would trust me as a friend?"

"Of course." She tilted her head back so Conis could see her smile. "I have a good feeling about you." She turned forward again with a wistful sigh. "Anyway, even if I did not trust you, I hear it is common for handmaids to remain close to their mistresses, in case you're needed in the middle of the night. If you don't feel comfortable sharing a bed with me, then I can arrange for a pallet to be placed in the sitting room. Either way, I'd prefer to have you here."

"Then, I would be happy to stay in here with you."

"Good," Nami chirped, spinning on her stool. "Let's find me a dress to wear so I can join this feast the king has planned. I could do with a strong cup of mead after the day I've had."

Conis gave her a sympathetic smile and nodded before going to search through the trunks tucked into a corner of the room. Ohm came with her chest of clothes as she slipped into a white linen shift, but she had already chosen an overdress from what Enel provided. She would be wise to play the part of an agreeable hostage for as long as she could. She had done as much for years under Arlong, she could do it again for Enel.

The overdress she chose was light blue with long sleeves and a scooped neck. Gold and green lined the collar and ran down the center of the bodice to end at her navel. More of the intricate threadwork followed the seams at her shoulders and down the sleeves. At the hem of her dress, where the heavy wool billowed and folded, embroidered flowers and vines swirled around her ankles.

It was the finest dress she had ever worn, but not the finest she glimpsed within the trunks. Enel's treasure was so vast, he had acquired an abundance of silk and lace. She even spied a gown that glittered with as much gold as his home and nearly felt her heart stop at the thought of wearing it. In the past, she would have immediately leaped at the chance to wear something fit for queens and empresses around the world, but held hostage in a mad king's hall, to wear such a dress felt silly and vain.

The style of the overdress didn't require her brooches and beads as apron skirts did, but Conis found a fur pelt dyed deep blue to drape over her shoulders and used her brooches to fasten it in place. She then sat Nami down to finish her hair, clipping the slender braids into a makeshift crown while leaving the rest of her hair to cascade down her back in bright amber waves. She retied the strings of gold and amber she had worn before so that they fell with the rest of her hair.

"I think the king will be pleased," Conis remarked as she fussed with the beads. "You will glitter as brightly as the treasure in his hall."

Nami took a deep breath and prepared herself to face the king again. She would play her part flawlessly. He would find no weakness in her. He would not see the tears she held in her heart. She would stand strong and live for her better tomorrow.

Conis accompanied her to the main hall once she was ready. The afternoon had turned to evening, with the late twilight slowly setting upon the fjord. Candles glittered off gold to guide them toward the feast. In the main hall, they found the center hearth filled with a roaring flame that made the room glow even brighter than when she first entered. Enel's army milled about tables, sharing trenches of meat and stew as they conversed among themselves. The conversation created a low din, but it was nothing like the uproarious feasts Kid held in his hall. There was no song, no joyous laughter, no bawdy tales, no games. It was as if she were back in Arlong's hall, alone in a room full of people.

"Nami," Enel called from the dais with his grand throne. He sat at a table alone while priests took seats at tables to his right and left, elevated above the soldiers, but still lower than the king. Enel waved her to his table with a lazy air of casualness unfit for a noble. A servant woman stood at one side with a bowl of fruit, and on the other side stood a woman with a pitcher in hand. "Let me see you," he commanded once she stood before his table, twirling his finger to signal that she spin. "Now you look as Freyja and Hnoss' daughter ought to appear," he said as she slowly turned for his inspection. "A true jewel that no mortal man is worthy of possessing."

"Do you not believe yourself to be mortal?" she asked.

Enel cocked his head. "I am invincible, but once I pass this test before me, I shall become worthy of eating Idunn's apples." He laughed as he turned toward the servant holding the fruit and crooked a finger. The woman picked a slice of apple and held it out for him to pluck from her fingers with his mouth. He grinned as he chewed. "In the meantime, I satisfy myself with the mortal variety, among other fruits. I understand they are good for one's health."

She bit her tongue to hold back her comment on his mortality. Idunn's apples gave the gods youth, but without them, they would shrivel and die as anyone would. And even with their gifts, they still bled, could still be killed, even if it took the might of gods or giants or ferocious monsters to slay them.

Enel waved toward the table on his left. "You may sit with your fellow priest," he said and she turned to see Ove at the table he assigned her. He glowered at her and she glared right back. She refused to sit with a traitor, even if she might very well be one herself. At least she hadn't insult Kid when she agreed to go with Enel. The one familiar face in the room, and she couldn't stand to look at the man. "I thought you would appreciate the company of a friend," Enel mused. "But it seems there is more animosity between you two than I thought."

"It's fine," Nami bit out, gathering her skirts and stomping over to the open seat at the table. She held Ove's hard gaze as she threw herself into the chair and didn't hide her sneer. "I am perfectly capable of being civil with a vile brute like him."

Enel cackled. "Well, you have been living with a pack of wolves. I suppose you can learn to play nice with a beast when you need to."

Nami turned her face away from Ove as Conis brought her a bowl of fish soup in a buttercream broth and a plate of bread and cheese. It appeared the priests did not have to share their meals and were given richer food. As Conis poured her a cup of sharp scented mead, Nami felt Ove lean closer. She clenched her jaw and refused to acknowledge him.

"You should mind you tongue, _Lady Nami_ ," he hissed under his breath. The coldness in his tone was tinged with carefully restrained anger that sent a shiver down her spine. He may have once lived in the same hall as she did, but he was no longer a friend. She would not show him her fear, either.

"Do you presume to threaten me, Ove?" she bit back. "To think this is your true self. I'm repulsed that you once dared to call Kid your friend." She heard him growl and snapped her head toward him, eyes narrowed as she felt her temper thin rapidly. "I hope the king takes your hand one day," she hissed. "Though you deserve far worse."

She saw his eyes flinch, his shoulders tensed, and his right hand balled into a fist on the table beside her. He sneered and then lost all the tension with a quiet hiss as he turned away from her. She hadn't realized how tense she had become until that moment, when her body relaxed. He didn't seem willing to speak to her again, so she took the silence as a signal to return to her meal.

"I broke an oath," Ove whispered after a moment. "I will lose my hand or my head, no matter what happens." He leaned in close again and her back straightened as the urge to flee came to her. "So, mind your tongue around me. You are here to dress up like the spoiled princess you have always believed yourself to be. I am here for war and nothing less. You play your part, and leave me to play mine, _priestess_."

His words made her heart ache. Kid had put his faith in this man, but he so easily turned his back to him. And worse yet, it was her fault. She could only hope that the others they left behind in Drafn were as loyal as she thought them to be. Kid needed his army. He would not win if any others deserted him.

She swallowed down her pain and the urge to cry as she took a drink of the mead Conis brought her. It was biting and strong, not as sweet as she preferred, but hopefully it would help her forget the losses of the day. She would mourn the deaths she witnessed, and those she didn't, only in her heart. No one there would see her sorrow and guilt.

Her meal smelled delicious, but it was tasteless on her tongue. She forced herself to eat it, nonetheless, while downing as much mead as she could. She was picking through a plate of sweetened cloudberries when the front doors opened to reveal the last party to join them – the strangely familiar man Enel had called Corazon.

He went straight for Enel's dais with the confident air of a man who belonged there, though Enel had said he was a guest, housed on one of the islands. His hair fell to his shoulders, tied back with a simple leather cord, and appeared black in the shadows, but as the light of the hearth and sconces hit him, she could see that it was a deep, midnight blue. His jaw was framed by a neatly trimmed beard, a tufted of groomed hair covered his chin. He had a handsome face, with its rich olive skin that made the gold of his eyes stand out as bright as the gold rings piercing his ears. He was tall, nearly as tall as Kid, so far as she could tell from a distance, and was dressed in dark trousers and tunic, trimmed with yellow and orange, and bore a cloak with black feathers sewn over his shoulders. His appearance and manner spoke of simple wealth and noble breeding.

She knew that she had never seen his face before, but there was something that struck her as familiar when she saw him. A shiver ran down her spine when his eyes met hers for a fleeting moment. His lips tugged into a lopsided smirk and he nodded a greeting to her before setting his whole attention on the king lounging carelessly in his throne as servant women fed him.

"King Enel, I apologize for my tardiness," he said, his tone insincere.

"Did you have trouble securing Nezumi?" Enel asked, though he didn't sound like he cared one whit about the fate of the merchant lord.

"The man is a weakling. It was no trouble getting him into the fetters. But his mouth is annoying and it took some time to find an adequate muzzle," Corazon explained. "I also visited Pagaya to see if he could forge a suitable cage for Nezumi. Rats can be crafty and gnaw through wood. I would feel more comfortable at night if my specimen was locked away behind iron bars."

Enel chuckled. "I will have to visit your home to see the results of these studies you undertake. I am especially interested in seeing his muzzle."

"I will tell him to look forward to it." Corazon's own chuckle was raspy and sinister. Nami felt another shiver trail down her spine. "Pagaya was curious how his daughter was faring in your hall, as well. I said I would send along a message wishing her well in her responsibilities to you."

"You would be better served asking Lady Nami about her new handmaid. I believe there is room enough at her table, you may sit with her and Ove," Enel said, gesturing toward her.

Corazon inclined his head toward the king and spun on his heel to join them. Servants rushed to place a chair on the end beside her. Conis reappeared with a fresh flagon of mead to pour Corazon a cup. His smile and grateful nod appeared more genuine than the smirk he shared with her. He took a sip of his drink while more servants brought him his meal. He held up a hand when they set down his plate of bread and cheese.

"No bread," he stated.

"I will take it if he will not eat it," Ove said, waving for the servants to bring him the plate. "Another rasher of pork, if you have it, too."

The servants nodded in acquiescence and ran off to heed his request. Ove continued to ignore her as he dug into his new food, leaving her to sit uncomfortably with this strange man at her side.

"I did not get to introduce myself earlier," Corazon said.

"I have already heard your name, there is no need for introduction," Nami interrupted.

"I suppose that's true," Corazon chuckled. "Conis appears well. Her father was worried for her. She has never been away from his home."

"I understand it's only been a night, but for a parent a night may as well be an eternity," Nami said, forcing herself to remain polite as she tried to understand the unease in her heart sitting so close to this man. "She told me that she spent the night with the other servants. I've invited her to remain in my quarters with me. When you see her father again, please tell him that I will not mistreat his daughter. She will be a friend to me."

Corazon smiled, a glint of amusement in his gold eyes. "A friend? Your speech seems harsh, but you have a gentle spirit."

"And your speech seems rude, but I have yet to determine the nature of your spirit," she retorted.

He laughed as he took a bite of the fish in his soup. "You have been looking at me with suspicion since you arrived, yet you do not know me. Why is that?"

"There is something familiar about you," she said, deciding it better to be straightforward with him. "I do not know your face, but when I see you, the hairs on my arm stand on end, as if I've met you before, even if only at a distance."

Corazon hummed around another bite. He held her gaze, his amusement not waning one bit. "Where might we have met?" he asked.

She pursed her lips in thought. There was only one person she had met recently that left her so uneasy, and she had not seen his face. "Have you been to England?"

His brow arched. "I have."

"How recently?"

He chuckled. "I cannot answer that accurately. It has been some time."

His vague response pricked at her temper, but she carefully leashed it. "How recently did you arrive in Oslofjord?"

"I suppose… a little more than a week ago is when I arrived," Corazon answered.

"And where were you before that?"

He chuckled again. "I feel as though I am being interrogated for a crime I do not remember committing."

"Answer the question," she demanded.

All his mirth left him as he turned a cold glare onto her. His gaze was sharp enough to cut through her heart. She nearly shuddered at the look, but she tightened her hand to steel herself to glare back.

"Do not think to order me as you please, _Lady Nami_ ," he said, his tone low and filled with warning. It made her want to run away, but she stubbornly remained rooted in her chair.

" _Please_ , answer me," she whispered.

His expression softened. He stared at her a moment longer, then turned away as though he would dismiss her.

"I was in Denmark," he answered quietly. "I was exiled here by the king after murdering a man he was fond of."

If he had been in Denmark, then the chances that he had been in England at the same time as she were slim. Not impossible, but unlikely.

"Perhaps I have mistaken you for another, then," she said, forcing herself to relax. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his expression stoic and guarded. She smiled kindly and batted her eyelashes. "It has been a rough day… Really, the last few weeks have been difficult. I find myself suspicious of every new person I meet."

His wry amusement returned and she could feel the last of the tension leave the air around them. "I understand. You have just faced a war against a powerful king. Witnessed a man betray a friend." He gestured to Ove, but Nami refused to look at the man. "It is wise not to trust so easily, especially an outsider such as myself. I take no offense."

His apparent forgiveness eased the suspicion in her heart. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad man, at least no worse than the others surrounding her. He had Nezumi captive and if she understood his conversations with Enel correctly, he was planning to torture the man for his studies. He made for an odd healer, but she had no complaints if the man he studied was a vile rat like Nezumi. She would remain wary of Corazon, but she doubted he was a threat to her there.

Her gaze cast down to the silver chain around his neck and the cross pendant that hung from it. "Are you a Christian?" she asked, genuinely curious. She thought the king despised Christians as much as Arlong did.

Corazon glanced down to the pendant with a thoughtful frown. He fingered the rubies set into the cross as he spoke. "No, I am not a Christian. This is all I have left of someone very dear to me. The meaning it holds for me is not of any religion. If not for the man this once belonged to, it would be nothing more than a trinket in my eyes."

"I am sorry," she said honestly, sparing him a somber smile when he looked up. When he turned away, the table sank into an uncomfortable silence that Nami could not endure. Sadness radiated from Corazon, making the silence all the more awkward to her. She cleared her throat and sought to find a better subject. "I'm curious - you are known to King Enel as Corazon, but I heard Nezumi call you Trafalgar as though he knew you."

"There is a region of Andalusia along the Mediterranean called Trafalgar that my father's family came from. Nezumi must have recognized that part of my ethnicity," Corazon explained.

Nami perched her chin on her hand, curious of this man that came from other lands. "So, you are Moorish, then?"

"In part." He nodded.

"They practice Islam, correct?"

"They do, but I do not. I have no gods to speak of, not anymore."

"Not anymore?"

He ate a spoonful of broth and said nothing on the subject, staring straight ahead as though intent on ignoring her now.

"What of your mother? Is she from Andalusia?" she pressed.

"No. Her family was from a region in northern Italy," he answered succinctly. "We lived in small village that was decimated by Christian nobles after an outbreak of plague. My parents were labeled heretics, claimed to be the source of the plague, and set to burn along with the sick in a misguided attempt to rid the world of the pox my parents were tirelessly working to cure. I barely escaped with my life."

Nami bowed her head as her chest tightened with sorrow. "I apologize again," she said quietly. "I seem to be stumbling across painful conversation topics for you. I did not intend to make you relive your pain."

Corazon stared at her in silence until he finally released a drawn-out sigh. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said. "You did not know. And it happened long ago. It's in the past."

"It may be in the past, but that does not mean the hurt is gone," she whispered. "Especially if you were a child. To live through such cruelty leaves unseen scars that will never fully heal. I'm sorry if my questions opened them again."

Again, he stared at her, his eyes devoid of emotion. Then his lips quirked into the barest hint of a smile. He leaned toward her, taking her by surprise as he grasped her elbow to tug her closer. Her shoulders turned stiff when she felt his breath flutter over her ear in a quiet chuckle and the shiver of unease returned to her spine.

"You truly have a gentle spirit," he whispered in a crude Frankish, further shocking her. How did he know that she would understand him? "You will not survive here with such a soft heart; not for long, not without an ally. If you need another person to confide in, have your handmaid bring you to my home. You do not have to trust my intentions, only trust that I will not bring you harm."

She jerked away to stare at him with wide eyes. His expression spoke of mischief, a sly smile curling his mouth.

"You do not have to answer me now," he continued softly, still speaking in Frankish. "Think on it. Perhaps the falcon watching over you even now will provide you with advice."

Her eyes widened even more. How did he know of the falcon? Was he an agent for Loki?

Corazon cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. "It's late," he said, returning to the Norse he spoke, his words tinged with a foreign accent similar to what she heard from Lucci in Álasund. He truly was from the Italian peninsula. "And I have a long trek back to my home." He stood and turned to incline his head toward the king. "I appreciate the meal. Shall I expect you to visit my captive tomorrow?"

Enel stared at him with a bored gaze. "If I am inclined to. I have a great deal of work to do with Lady Nami, though. Perhaps later in the week."

Corazon nodded. "I'll keep him alive at least that long. Conis," he called to Nami's handmaid, "I will inform your father that you are well."

"Thank you," Conis said. Her smile was beautiful, an expression Nami had not seen on any other servant. She wondered how long that happiness would last for her.

"Tell her father that she will be free to visit soon. I will not keep them apart," Nami said, prompting Corazon to look at her with a knowing smile.

"Then I will tell him to look forward to it," he said, inclining his head toward her. "And I will look forward to your visit," he added in Frankish.

She pursed her lips and nodded. She would still think on the offer, but if he was there at Loki's bidding, then she needed to learn more about him. He had surely been set in her path for a reason.

Corazon left without a word of goodbye to any other in the hall. The other two priests didn't even look up as he passed their table. He was an outsider to them, below their notice. Only the king was willing to speak with him.

"Lady Nami," Enel called to her as soon as Corazon was gone. "What did he say to you?"

"Hm?" She turned to look at the king, her eyes wide with feigned innocent. "He was telling me about his family."

"I heard that much. What did he say when he whispered to you? And again, when he spoke in that odd tongue?" Enel asked, his gaze filled with impatience.

"He was reassuring me that Nezumi would suffer at his hand," she lied. "And that I no longer have any reason to fear now that I was your priestess. A giant like Arlong is no match for a god, after all."

Enel laughed. "That is true. I will not let that sea giant take you from where you rightfully belong. Your fate far exceeds anything he could imagine."

Nami smiled sweetly. "I am relieved to hear that."

"And what of his message before he left?" Enel reminded.

"He was merely wishing me well in my new home and said he looked forward to speaking to me again," she answered. Somehow Corazon knew that she would understand him, and that Enel would not. He was showing her that if there was any message she did not want the king to hear, she should speak in the only other tongue she knew. She would ask him later how he knew that she spoke Frankish, but for now she would protect this single piece of freedom he provided her.

She now had a means to navigate around the king, and she would take full advantage of it.

* * *

He had spent the whole day pacing Earl Bonney's hall, growling under his breath as unwelcome anxiety punched at his chest. Something was wrong. He couldn't say what it was, all he knew was the dread crawling down his spine had grown worse and wanted nothing more than to grow a pair of wings and fly back home.

He might as well be in fetters.

No matter his will, he couldn't even bring himself to set foot on his ship. He had chosen to leave. He had chosen to walk away with the knowledge of an impending battle. To think he had abandoned his friends, his family, and a woman who had come to mean the world to him; he was ashamed of himself. He had never been such a coward.

He had hardly slept his first night in Hedeby. The bed wasn't his own and felt too big to sleep in alone. He longed to have Nami there, safely tucked in his arms. Maybe if he had brought her along, he could have protected her from Enel and those giants. But if he brought her with him, then it would change nothing between them. He could not have her and the thought was bound to drive him mad if he remained close. They needed to separate. If only he knew she was safe without him there.

Bonney tired of his pacing halfway through the afternoon and called for her servants to bring him as much mead as they could. It was strong, but he had drunk stronger in the past. He didn't think it would do anything to ease his worries.

Three flagons in, the world began to spin and Kid realized she had them put something extra in his drink to knock him of his senses. He would have been grateful any other night, but the loss of control and fading consciousness only turned his anxiety into an all-consuming panic that threatened to strangle him.

His dreams made it worse.

He stood on a dock breathing in a thick fog of smoke. He could feel fire hot at his back, but his gaze was captured by a ship drifting serenely in the bay and the lone figure sitting inside it.

"Nami," he breathed out, the sight of her amber hair easing the ache in his chest. The respite was momentary as he realized her back was turned to him, the ship gradually moving away. "Don't leave," he said, too soft for her to hear. "Don't leave me," he shouted, but she did not answer.

He walked over the dock, stretching out a hand as he called for her to come back. The dock grew longer while the ship drifted farther away. He began to jog. The dock grew longer still. He sprinted forward, running as fast as could, until every breath burned in his throat.

"Nami," he called. "Where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

She turned to look over her shoulder, but said nothing before he finally reached the end of the dock and fell over the edge. He crashed into icy water and splashed for the surface. He felt water fill his lungs, but refused to give up as he kicked his legs. He needed to reach her. He needed to stop her.

He needed to know why she was crying.

"Nami…" he said as he felt heavy chains coil around his legs.

He stared at the glimmer of light on the water's surface as he was pulled down. He fought the chains, reaching out for the slender ray of sunlight.

His last breath of air rushed out of him in a flurry of bubbles. His vision grew dark at the edges as he helplessly stared at the orbs following the path of the sun to the surface.

They looked like amber.

Just as the sun went out, he felt a hand grasp his.

He sat up gasping in clean, fresh air. He stared in wide-eyed wonder and confusion at the bright, sun-soaked clearing he woke in. He lay on a flat stone, all alone, but he swore someone had saved him from drowning, he swore a hand had reached for him.

His body trembled. He went to ball his hand into a fist and will it to stop shaking; the clank of iron drew his attention to his wrist.

He was shackled to the rock, arms and legs. He could not move from that place, could not shatter his fetters, no matter how hard he tugged at them.

Why was he in chains? Why wasn't he allowed to leave?

Panic returned as he twisted his hands in a vain attempt to pull them free. He would cut off his thumb if it would help his hand slide through, or perhaps cut his whole hand off. He didn't need his hands or feet. He could fight without them. So long as he was free to find her. It didn't matter what he had to give up. He had to find Nami. He had to bring her back to him. He would give anything to get her back.

"Is that true?" a voice called from behind him.

Kid tried to spin around and face whoever was hiding from him, but his chains held him in place. He craned his neck, tried to search for the voice's source.

"What would you give for her?" the voice asked again. He had no idea who this person was, but their voice was deep and soothing. He felt his panic ebb just hearing his question.

"What would you sacrifice for the strength to bring her back?" the man asked. "What would you do to prove your worth?"

Kid fought at his shackles, growling when they only seemed to bind him to the rock with even more strength.

He heard someone walk through the thick grass growing in the field until a cloaked figure came to stand before him. Kid sucked in a breath as the sun glared bright behind the man's head.

"When you are ready to answer me, I will guide you to where you need to be," the man said before bending over to carefully place something on the stone between Kid's shackled feet.

His eyes widened at the smooth amber stone. He looked up, thinking that he could answer the man, only to find him gone. Kid searched the woods surrounding the clearing as he fought the restraints that wouldn't even allow him to reach for the amber left for him. The only sign that he was given that he was not alone, that he was still being watched, was the flash of a golden tusk and fur disappearing behind a tree.

He reached for the amber, willing to tear sinew and bone, if only he could touch it once. He would tear off his arm if he had to.

He woke in a panic to a dark, unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, with only one thought on his mind –

He needed amber. He needed to find her.

He was not chained in that room, but there was no amber at his feet, so he flung himself out of bed and stumbled toward the chest in the corner. He frantically dug through linen and wool, tossed soap and comb and razor aside. He found a purse with gold coins and hoped he might have a stone in there. He dumped the coins out in his palm, felt over each in the dark until he realized there was no amber among them and tossed the coins away to clatter noisily on the wood floor.

He turned the rest of the room upside down in his search.

When the room proved empty of the amber he sought, he ran out to the hall where his men slept and began to search through their things.

"Jarl Kid," he heard Wire prompt, voice thick from sleep. "What is it?"

"Need amber," he explained. "Need to find her."

"Amber? Find her? Find who?" the man asked, though he should know the answer well enough.

" _Her_. I need to find _her,_ " he answered loudly as he flung aside the contents of Halle's chest only to come up empty in his search. "She's gone. I need to find her. I need to find amber."

His men said nothing as he continued to search their things.

"Help me find it," he shouted impatiently, snapping them all to attention.

Candles were lit to aid the search, but his men did little more than get in his way. He shoved them aside as he searched beneath their pallets. His men had nothing, so he searched around the smoldering hearth, only to come away with a burned wrist.

"I need amber," he repeated, his mind maddeningly fixated on that one thing. He would not rest until he found it. "I need to find her."

His gaze set upon the earl's dais and he ran toward it. Servants had begun to trickle in, curious of the commotion, but he ignored them as he turned Bonney's throne onto its side.

"Amber. Amber. Amber," he repeated like a mantra while his men stood behind him in tense silence.

"What is going on out here?" he heard Bonney growl as he tossed an empty bowl against the wall.

"I need amber," he said. "I need to find her."

"Has he lost his mind?" Bonney asked.

"…. I don't know," Wire answered.

When the dais turned up no amber, Kid set his sights on the earl. She was dressed in a plain shift, her long pink hair tied in a loose braid. She wore no jewels or trinkets. No amber stones. But she had to have some amber. She had to.

"Give it to me," he demanded, stalking toward her. "Give me the amber."

"I have no amber to give you," she said, staring up at him without a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

His madness gave way to rage. He needed to find her. Why would they not help him find her? Why would they leave him in these chains?

"Give it to me," he bellowed as he grabbed Bonney by the neck and slammed her against the nearest pillar.

His men fell on him immediately. They tugged at his arm and back, but he stood strong against their efforts. He would find her. He would let no one stand in his way. Friend or foe, if they tried to prevent him from reaching her, then he would strangle the life out of them.

Bonney struggled for a breath as he tightened his grip around her, but he saw no panic in her eyes. She pried at his fingers, but her lips curled in a sneer of anger, rather than a whimper of fear.

"Give me your amber," he shouted.

One of her hands dropped from his while she tried to gasp for another tiny breath. He heard someone run off, but his whole focus on was Bonney's flushed face. Why would she not heed his demands? Why would she not see reason? Why could she not see that he lost her, that he needed to get her back?

"All right," Bonney gasped all of a sudden. "I have your amber," she wheezed once his grip slackened enough for her to take another breath. "I'll give you the amber you need."

 _Finally_ , he thought to himself as he loosened his grip and let her fall to her feet. She swayed a moment in front of him, but caught her bearings and turned her angry gaze up to him.

He saw the glimmer of amber in her palm and felt the last of his anger trickle from him.

With a furious shout, she slammed the stone into his temple. The world went black.

And he dreamed of amber rain.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _First note - for those that don't follow my tumblr, In This Moment's new album came out last Friday and I wish it came out earlier because holy shit it is perfect for this fic. Basically the whole thing plays to the imagery and emotion in this, especially this arc, and I listened to it on repeat all weekend while I was writing this (thus why I managed to get it done in like 4 days, ahaha). The song 'Rive of Fire' absolutely fits this chapter, most of all Killer's POV, so I recommend listening to that._

 _I couldn't give Shura his fire lance because it didn't fit with the battle I put him in, and lances weren't typically found in Norse armories. Also, it's more suited to open field, cavalry warfare, not a surprise attack on a village. *shrugs* I claim poetic license, lol. I still tried to incorporate fire as much as I could because of Killer's canon appearance after the time-skip._

 _I feel bad that I killed Gedatsu off-screen, but, tbh, he is too_ _weird/ silly for this fic and I would have had difficulty writing him from an outside perspective. Plus, Ove joining the priests was necessary for plot reasons, so, sorry Gedatsu, you die._

 _Big thing to point out in this chapter is the importance of wording in oaths and answers. A common theme in Norse folklore, particularly where Odin and Loki are both concerned, has to do with the specific wording of a contracts. We all know about loopholes, but Odin was a master at using them to their fullest potential, via Loki. Loki is his sworn brother, and as a god of chaos and outsider, he is particularly adept at helping Odin and the other gods get out of contractual agreements. The story behind the Asgardian wall and how Odin got his horse Sleipnir is a prime example of this, and I don't feel like telling that story here, but Freyja was involved as payment for the wall and you can all imagine how happy she was about that. :)_

 _Imagery in this chapter connected to Thor: Killer using the smith's hammer was very much a nod to Thor's positive aspects. The rowan trees in the courtyard are actually connected to Thor. Kind of funny, I was looking at trees native to Norway, saw the rowan and went 'wow, this would be perfect for Enel, I wonder if it has mythological significance to tie into him', and what do you know, they are referred to as the 'salvation of Thor' in one of the stories, because he clings to a rowan tree to save his life. It is also thought that Sif, Thor's wife, took the form, or was conceived, as that rowan because rowans, especially the fruit they bear, are sacred to the Sami goddess, Ravdna, that some believe Sif is connected to (Ravdna is the wife of the Sami thunder-god, Horagalles)._

 _I make reference to Idunn's apples, the apples that the gods eat to maintain their youthful appearance and extend their lifespans. In canon, Enel's favorite fruit is the apple._

 _The reference to goats for Enel's Army - goats are sacred to Thor, and some of Enel's army, in canon, are goat-men._

 _Ove's offer of his right hand to Enel is a reference to Tyr, who agreed to place his hand in Fenrir's mouth when they bound him. When Fenrir could not break his chain, he bit off Tyr's hand in retribution for the gods' betrayal._

 _The imagery of sunshine and the 'golden tusk and fur' in Kid's image is connected to a god that decided he also wants to be a character in the fic and I cannot say no. Even Loki cannot speak ill of Freyr, and since he wants to help and provided me with some great imagery while listening to 'Take Me Over' by Red, I had to use him. Also, he's important to Nami's maternal lineage, too, but more on that in later chapters._

 _Last note is about oranges - The conditions in Scandinavia are too harsh for citrus trees to grow, but they were imported into the region. In this time period, many of the oranges in Northern Europe came from trade with the Mediterranean, especially Andalusia in Spain, but at one point the Northern people were aware that they originated in Asia. The word for oranges (the fruit) in Norwegian is 'appelsin' ('appelsiner', plural), which literally translates to apples from China. It is the same in Danish, Swedish, and Icelandic, with slight variations in spelling as their dialects grew distinct from Old Norse (though Icelandic is extremely close to Old Norse). I just needed to give Nami her oranges, even if they are not as central to her character as I would normally make them._

 _I think that's all the notes I have to make. And again, this arc will be very violent, so hopefully these last two chapters conveyed that._


	27. Chapter 27

_Warning: Some mention of violence._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Ensam är stark_

Her first night in the king's hall, she fell asleep muffling her sobs with a fur blanket so her handmaid wouldn't take notice. Loneliness sank onto her heart like an iron weight as she grieved the losses she faced that day. When she ran out of tears, exhaustion dragged her into a miserable sleep with only a single dream for her to remember.

She dreamed of a wolf that night. Rusty brown eyes glowed with a red fire. A frothing snarl bore white toothed anger. Ravenous growls echoed in the dark, mixed with the rattling of heavy iron chains.

She woke to a knock on her chamber's wall and bolted upright in her bed to see Enel standing in the door wearing wool trousers and not much else. He stared down at her with his empty eyes, a brow raised in curious interest. Conis groaned beside her, drawing the king's attention to the woman as she stretched and burrowed into the furs on Nami's new bed.

"The hour grows late and you two still sleep?" Enel asked, turning back to Nami. His curly blonde hair was unkempt, disheveled from sleep. He looked like he had only just woken, too. He had no room to lecture her, but she doubted he would take kindly to hearing that from her.

"I didn't sleep well last night," she gave as an explanation. "Nightmares plagued me."

"What visited you in these nightmares?" he asked, his head cocked to the side.

She sighed. "A wolf."

Enel chuckled. "I will put him down soon enough. You have no reason to fear his wrath."

It was not the wolf's wrath she feared, but she would not tell that to the king.

"Wake your handmaid and get dressed," Enel ordered as he turned away. "I will find another servant to bring you your meal. I will be escorting you around the village today before we begin your training."

He walked off before she could ask what training he meant to give her.

With a resigned sigh, she shook Conis awake and set about getting ready for the day. A servant brought a plate of cheese and fruit and a cup of warm goat's milk as she washed her face. She nibbled on the light meal while Conis combed out her hair and tied it into two coils that roped around her head from her temples and met to form one long rope she let hang over her shoulder. They searched the chests of clothes Enel had given her until Nami found an overdress made of lighter wool dyed green with simple embroidery of a darker green than the dress. It was another long-sleeved dress like the one she wore the night before, unsuited for her brooches. The king apparently preferred the style as most of the dresses he gifted her were cut the same way.

It was too warm to wear a fur, so Nami set aside her brooches to wear another day. Conis secured a golden coil into the roping length of her hair to help it stay in place and pulled out a shawl made of loosely knotted wool for Nami to bundle in as she walked around the village with Enel. The shawl was a swath of color, a rainbow of blue and green and yellow and red, and soft to the touch. The beauty of it made her smile and wonder when she would see a rainbow in this storm she walked through.

She left Conis with a few meager chores to keep her busy so Enel would not think she spoiled her handmaid. She wanted a bath later, still craving the warm water to soothe her aching heart, and her lynx lined cloak was filthy from the previous day's battle. She asked Conis to see to those two things, and hoped she would find other chores to keep her busy and out of trouble.

Nami found Enel waiting for her in the main hall. He was dressed in his swaths of fine wool and silk and gold, lounging on his throne, his eyes shut as though dozing.

"You ate?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"I did. Thank you for the meal." She bowed her head in gratitude and wrapped the shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. "I'm ready to leave if you are."

Enel grunted and finally opened his eyes. His gaze swept over her, distant and emotionless. After a moment, he gave a nod of approval and pushed himself out of his throne. "Did you discard the rags you brought with you?" he asked as he walked toward the door.

"Not yet," she answered, following a few paces behind. Enel had a lazy gait for a king. His back was straight, his head held high, but there was a sway to his walk, a carelessness in every step he took. It was a slow amble that was easy to keep up with, though his long legs still carried him faster than most, and he did not tend to stop and wait for someone to catch up.

"Are you keeping them for sentimental value?" There was a condescending chuckle in his tone that made her hackles raise. He was teasing her, but she would not rise to his bait.

"Of course not," she huffed with her own air of arrogance. "They will be useful come washing day. Or perhaps I can gift them to my handmaid, or any others that come into my service. They are at least finer than the rough spun wool you clad the slaves in. I would rather my servants be dressed in something better than literal rags."

Enel laughed. "If you say so, Nami. Do what you want with your belongings, even if I doubt you will need them. You will want for nothing in my household, after all. I can dress your handmaids in even finer garb if that is what you desire, and give you dresses made of gold."

"I believe I saw one already," she idly commented.

"I'm surprised you have not worn it yet."

"It was too beautiful," she said, earning a quick look from the king over his shoulder. "I wish to save it for a worthier occasion," she added with what she hoped was a pleasant smile.

Enel grunted in understanding and turned forward. He led her out the front gate and down the path leading to the main square. She noticed a man strung up to a pole, freshly battered but alive, judging by the raspy breaths he took. His face was tattooed, as best she could tell through his bruises. Knots of blue ink trailed down his neck and bare torso. She grimaced at the weeping cuts over his stomach that left the intricate design in tatters. She recognized the lashes of a whip, felt her stomach roil at the thought of the agony the man must be in. She wondered what crime he might have committed, but feared to ask after seeing the king's brutal slaughter of Chew and his men the day before, as well as the easy murder his priests committed to the fleeing villagers in Drafn. This king's rule seemed vicious and cruel enough to provoke harsh punishment for even the smallest of crimes.

She ducked her head and hurried after Enel. She could not interject herself too much in the village's day to day affairs, at least not yet. She had to focus on protecting herself. Once she felt safe, she could think about helping those suffering under this king's unjust hand.

"Where are we going?" Nami asked as she caught up to walk beside the king.

"I commissioned another gift for you five days ago, when I heard you might be near. I tasked the goldsmith to work at it day and night, without rest, so it should be ready today. After, I will take you to my ship yard," he explained as he abruptly turned down another path, leading away from the main marketplace by the docks.

The thought of a commissioned piece by a goldsmith would have normally excited her, but hearing that the king forced the man to work without rest until it was complete left her feeling hollow. He treated his free people like slaves, and she imagined he treated his slaves even worse.

The villagers they passed avoided the king's gaze as they respectfully bowed their heads to him. She wasn't foolish enough to believe these people respected their king. She recognized the cowardice in their slumped shoulders, the fear in the quiver of their eyes. They were biding their time, thinking of their survival and nothing more. It was just as the people in Tingstad behaved when Arlong walked through the village, though a few were bold enough to wear a contemptible sneer. Arlong forgave sneers with a sharp backhand and nothing more. But if talk of an uprising reached his ears, he was merciless.

If the rumors Kid told her were true, and judging by all she witnessed in her short time with the king - they were, Enel was worse than Arlong.

Enel stopped at the entrance gate of a fenced in house. "Wait here," he commanded as he walked through the gate. She watched as he welcomed himself into the home and hollered for whoever he expected to find inside.

Left to wait alone, Nami observed the area around her. The place he took her was tucked away, off the main square, but people still milled about. The dirt path was too narrow for carts and horses, but ideal for foot traffic; a shortcut for any that wished to avoid the congested market. A shop sat beside the building Enel went in, likely taking advantage of what little traffic passed.

The shop was merely a cart without wheels, a single counter with an awning to shelter its customers. A woman sat behind the counter, busying herself with her needlework, while two other women browsed. Nami's eyes caught a sparkle of gold glint on the morning sun and let her feet carry her to the shop to see what was being sold.

She wasn't sure how she would be greeted by the villagers, not when she was supposed to be the king's new priestess, so she kept her head low and pulled her shawl up to cover her hair. She didn't want to scare anyone, or draw more attention to herself than necessary. She just wanted to see the pretty jewelry.

The woman tending the shop acknowledged her with a short nod without looking up from her needlework. The other women paid her no mind as she looked at the looping gold bracelets and woven chains. None of the pieces had any jewels, but were beautiful enough without, and Nami's hand itched with the desire to pluck them all up for herself. She resisted the urge by tightening her hands where she clutched her shawl and contented herself with just looking.

She supposed if she asked Enel for more gold, he would give it to her without much thought. She didn't have to steal or barter for the jewelry.

"Did you see the man in the square?" she heard one of the women whisper.

"I did," the other responded with a pitying tut. "When will those people learn it's best not to fight him?"

"So, he is one of the berserker's?"

Nami perked up at the question. What berserker? She knew the man was not one of Kid's. That meant there was another berserker warring with Enel.

"He was caught stealing goats from one of the king's farms last night," the second woman explained. "He is fortunate to be alive. I thought that whole tribe was exiled. He could have been killed on sight."

"I'm sure the king will make an example of him later," the first whispered. "Especially now that he has begun to war with another berserker. If that jarl to the south thinks to retaliate soon, there will be more dead and dying men on display. The king will not let his rule be threatened by any of them."

The second woman groaned. "We are steadily becoming surrounded by his enemies. They should just do as we have and keep their heads down. We just want to live in peace, not be thrust into their pointless wars."

"Why do you think he attacked the jarl yesterday? And killed those men who were his guests? Is his madness worsening?"

"McKinley will not answer anyone straight, but I saw that he returned with a woman hostage. She might be…"

"Nami," Enel called to her, cutting off the women's gossip.

Nami jumped in surprise and backed away from the cart as Enel approached her. The women took notice of her and the king, their eyes widened in surprise. Their lips thinned as they gave the king a trembling bow, eyed her with unveiled suspicion, and then scurried off without another word. The woman tending the shop had tossed her needlework aside and stood with her head bowed and hands quivering.

"Come," Enel ordered once he was a few paces away. "I have your gift and it's far finer than those trinkets."

The thought of anything finer than the gold on display excited her, despite knowing better, and she hurried to where Enel stood waiting. He chuckled at her eagerness and she supposed it would not hurt to be a little greedy while she was in his keep. The more she showed her appreciation for his expensive gifts, the more he would think her agreeable to his cause.

A thick gold chain wound around his fingers and tucked into his palm. It shone with a polished luster unlike the plainer bracelets and armbands and necklaces on display. She could tell by the way he held his fist closed, that there was a pendant attached, but she could not see what it was.

She stood still and waited for him to present the gift, but Enel did not open his hand. Instead, he reached for her shawl and gently pushed it off her head. Her back straightened and she held her breath as he stepped closer, his hands disappearing behind her neck. His proximity was unnerving, his manner too intimate for her liking, but she held her tongue and remained perfectly still as she stared at the chest directly in front of her.

It was then she realized that he was taller than Kid, though built with lean muscle and a trim frame. She wondered how they would match in battle. She had not seen Enel fight, only indiscriminately slaughter. She had no thought of how strong he was, only had rumors and the fears of the locals to go by. Instinct told her that he should not be underestimated, but she hoped that somehow Kid proved stronger in the end.

"There," Enel hummed as he pulled away, tugging her roped hair free of the chain he placed around her neck. His fingers grazed over the chain as he set it in place with a glimmer of pride in his blue eyes. She glanced down to see what pendant he had hidden from her and stared in wide-eyed wonder at the golden hammer hanging over her breast. It was larger and more intricately carved than the hammer his other priests wore, with a similar design to the king's. "You should have been wearing this since infancy, dear cousin," he said. "Even if our clans were not married together, you were still born from my family's blood. You should have inherited this symbol as your birthright, regardless of your clan's laws."

The pendant fell against her breastbone once he released the chain, making the weight of the hammer more apparent. She might as well have a purse stuffed with gold coins hanging from her neck for how heavy the pendant was. The hammer was carved with detailed vines and knots from the pommel to the grip to the head, and set with white and yellow stones that glistened like rain drops in the sun. It was a beautiful gift, but… It was _heavy._

And it was yet another mark, claiming her for a man's ambitions.

"I think it suits you," Enel said as he turned away, waving her to follow along. She dropped the hammer as she skipped after the king, ignoring the new weight that tugged at her neck. "What were those women discussing?" he asked once she fell in step beside him.

A nervous thrill ran down her spine as he glanced down at her, but she forced a smile and pretended to be braver than she felt. "They were talking about the man tied up in the square. They said that they wished your enemies would not bother you so much, that they should learn to bow their heads to you as they have. It's futile to keep fighting you."

Enel grinned. "That it is. Most in this village have learned to listen to their fears, just as you have. It is wisest to fear God, for God _is_ fear. There is no victory to be had in battle against me."

"They mentioned another berserker," Nami prompted. "I hadn't heard of any others, only Jarl Eustass. Then again, I have not been in Noreg very long."

"You have no need to worry about the other berserker. He's just another annoying dog, yapping about lands that no longer belong to him," Enel said, brushing off the subject with an errant shrug. "His people occasionally make the mistake of crossing into my territory, but they are slowly learning that it is pointless to resist me. I wonder how long it will take for your wolf to learn that same lesson."

The flippant remark filled her with dread. She wanted to hope that Kid would be victorious, but every time Enel boasted of his strength, she knew it would not be that easy. Kid would need to keep a calm head and approach this war tactically. He could not let rage drive him.

She decided it was best not to discuss Enel's growing list of enemies further. He would only continue to remind her of his invincibility and make her doubt the strength of the friends she left in Drafn. They walked in silence through the village. It was hardly any sort of formal tour, nothing like the one Killer took her on when she first moved into Kid's hall. He introduced her to no one, failed to point out any place or person of significance. She supposed to him, there was nothing more significant than himself and his ambitions.

"There is only one story the Christians tell that I can appreciate," Enel said as he led her along the eastern coast, far from the village. He had been silent for so long, she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. He didn't notice her startled reaction, or perhaps he ignored it, and continued with his story as they followed a path of deep gouged ruts, evidence of a well-used cart path. "I understand they share this story with the Hebrews and Moors, though I have not heard their versions for myself. They tell of a great flood, brought upon a sinful humanity by their God. His anger and disappointment with His creation drove Him to wash the world clean of everything, but He sent a warning to a single man and his family. He urged Noah to build a great ark, one capable of surviving the mighty storm that would be unleashed, and told him to gather two of every animal so that he could replenish the world's creatures once the flood waters receded. When the storm came, Noah was prepared, and he and the animals he gathered survived aboard his ark, for forty days and forty nights. The ark bore them through the worst weather, the roughest waters, and when the floodwater receded, they were free to repopulate the cleansed lands. Or something like that." Enel shrugged as he led her around a bend. Nami stopped short to stare at what greeted her, her mouth gaping in awe at the ship standing before her. "I only cared about the ark. The rest of the story is drivel to me."

Enel was building an ark, a ship nothing like the sleek longships their people had been building for centuries. The ship he was constructing took up a whole inlet set just off the bay, buttressed by whole trees between steep hills that were as tall as the ship. The length of the ark disappeared into the valley further east, but she guessed that it was the length of nearly six longships, maybe even more.

Hundreds of men, slaves with shaved heads and clad in tattered, thin wool, were working on the ark that appeared to be near completion. The inlet echoed with the sounds of their hammers and voices hollering in a cacophony of different languages.

The ship looked heavy and cumbersome by its size alone, but the glimmer of gold upon the prow and wale would weigh it down more, assuming it was genuine gold. Considering Enel's hall and attire, she had no doubt that was real gold on his ship.

This ship could not possibly be seaworthy. She had seen some of the oared ships from the south, but the galleys were unstable in rough seas and the route beyond Iceland was said to be even more dangerous than the journey to the Norse island. The sailing ships of the south might be strong enough, especially the hulks, but they were not as large and cumbersome as this great ark Enel had built, and they had their own limits in the northern seas. The weight of this ark would present more problems than any other ship she had seen. It couldn't possibly carry anyone to Vinland.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" Enel said, grinning wide as he craned his neck to stare up at the monstrous ship's uppermost deck. Judging by the shuttered openings, she counted three levels beneath the main deck, though the lowest had no windows to speak of. "I anticipate they will have it completed by the next midsummer, if not sooner. I've worked them year-round on this for five years. It has to be completed soon."

 _Year-round?_ Nami could not believe that he would make them work through the winter, but he had just tasked a free craftsman to work night and day to create her new necklace. His own goals and desires would always be prioritized above others' well-being, and he was not the only ruler she knew that was cruel to their slaves, though even the worst usually saved them from working outside during the frigid winter. The hundreds of slaves before her had likely seen hundreds more perish just to meet Enel's demands.

"You have very dedicated builders," Nami forced herself to say when she caught Enel staring at her from the corner of his eye. "Braving the cold and snow and darkness for your ship, I'm impressed with their work ethic."

Enel laughed. "I suppose it is impressive now. It was not always that way. I hanged any that dared to question me in the beginning and left them as a reminder to the rest that I will not tolerate insubordination." He pointed off to a set of trees with a dozen empty nooses swaying in the breeze. "I have not had to hang any others recently, but the rope continues to foster that fear in their hearts, even among the newest who did not witness the first hangings."

Nami rubbed her neck and willed her stomach to settle as she imagined those nooses occupied by slaves. Her throat threatened to close when her mind conjured a man with blood red hair at the forefront. Her eyes stung as she tore them away from the nooses and focused on the impossibly large ship before her.

She cleared her throat. "I hope the ship is ready ahead of schedule," she said, unable to hide the tremble of her voice. "I'm eager to see this new world with endless land you speak of. Is this ship truly sea-worthy, though?"

He slanted a harsh glare toward her that made her spine straighten with a nervous tremor. She laughed despite herself.

"I'm not questioning your decision, I have just never seen such a large ship," she rushed to explain. "I'm so used to our longships, I cannot imagine any others sailing half as well. I would not want your journey to be crippled by a ship, even if it is so magnificent."

Enel's glare eased with a thoughtful hum as he turned his gaze to the ship. "I have seen it sailing upon an ocean of white, cresting foamy swells and tempestuous seas."

"Will it fit through the fjord?" she asked quietly, more to herself than to Enel as she thought of all the islands dotting the narrow inlet and the shallow bed further out in the straits.

"It will fit," Enel answered, his tone flat and impatient. "My fleet of knarrs will also join to bring additional supplies and slaves. This ship is solely for the army you will rule over and whatever servants we desire to keep in our company as we sail. We shall have all the comforts we would have in my hall – food, wine, mead, gold – and when we land in the new world, this ship will strike terror into the hearts of the natives and see that they bend their knee quickly. If they do not, the height will give our archers an advantage."

She could find nothing to say on his _reassurances_ , not with the pity she felt for the unsuspecting people he intended to terrorize. This king-that-would-be-God seemed to leave war and death in his wake. That was hardly anything she desired to worship. At least their gods in the north, while warriors in part, brought blessings for peace and harvest and wisdom. They may not be perfect, but they were not unnecessarily cruel.

The cry of a falcon distracted Nami and she watched as the bird that followed from Drafn swooped onto the deck of the ship. Its appearance created chaos among the slaves as it flew between them, knocking one man off balance to nearly fall over the side. He was caught by a rope tied around his waist and hauled up by his fellow slaves while the falcon perched on the dragon head decorating the ship's prow. It raised a wing to groom beneath, apathetic to the commotion it had left in its wake.

Enel hummed beside her. He sounded annoyed, but said nothing as he spun on his heel to walk back to the main village. Nami glanced at the falcon one last time, glowering at the bird, and then hurried after the king.

"That falcon has been watching over you," he remarked.

Nami laughed nervously. "It is only a bird," she said.

"It is not as wild as a bird should be."

"Maybe it was a lord's pet once," she suggested. "They are often tamer."

Enel grunted, unwilling to believe the possibility. She could not let his suspicions be roused any more than they were. If she was going to find a way to work around him, she needed as much freedom as he would allow.

She quickened her pace and reached out to snag her arm in his. The king jerked back in surprise, but she merely grinned up at him with as much sweetness and innocence she could muster.

"Maybe it's a sign that I need a falcon of my own," she said. "My grandmother has her falcon cloak, perhaps a pet falcon will grant me more access to my gifts."

He relaxed, easing into her grip and giving silent permission for her to hold onto him. Humming, he turned his gaze up in thought. "I suppose. I will see if Ohm can capture it for you. If it is a lord's former pet and tame, then it should be easy to train for you. It would be a fine symbol of your status once you are queen, as well."

She nearly sighed in relief at his easy acceptance of her reasoning, but she hid it with a wide grin and squeezed his arm in gratitude. She doubted that falcon would be easy to capture, unless it desired to be caught. For the time being, she had diverted Enel's ever-present suspicions, and that was all that mattered.

"You said you would be training me today, as well," Nami said, turning the conversation away from any gods or birds that might be working to subvert Enel's plans. "What exactly am I to be trained at? You haven't even told me what my duties in your hall will be."

"I thought your training would be obvious." Enel chuckled, his bored expression cracking with a hint of amusement. "I have felt you in the tree, seeing the storm that I have seen, but I doubt you have much control of your visions. If you are to be my priestess and the authority on my word as our peoples' God, then you need to master the magic that runs in your veins. Tell me, do your visions usually come to you in dreams? Or have you conjured them in waking moments?"

"They began as dreams. Jarl Eustass had his healer teach me with runes, at least what little he knew of them. Since then, I've had some visions come while meditating." She pursed her lips as she thought back to all her visions in England. "One while in a thunderstorm, completely unbidden."

Enel grinned. "Thor was calling to you. As he should. His lightning and storms are in your core. Have other gods tried to call to you?"

She heard the falcon cry overhead and a shudder went down her spine. "I believe Rán helped drag me to Noreg and broke the seal Jarl Arlong placed on my magic. And I have been told that the reindeer that guided me to Jarl Eustass was herded by an old woman they suspect was Eir."

"What of Loki?" Enel glowered. "He was the one who triggered this calamity at the start. Has he sought you? Has he tried to interfere in your path at all?"

"I cannot say," Nami said. "If he has come to me in a disguise to interfere in my path, then I would say that his interference is what brought me to you."

He hummed. "You were questioning Corazon's history at supper last night. Do you suspect him of being a threat to you? Why did you believe him to be someone else?"

Nami wasn't sure of this line of questioning. Did Enel suspect Corazon to be connected to Loki as she did? She would have to be careful with how she answered. Corazon might prove to be her only lifeline in this village, though she was reluctant to trust him, as well. She could not have him killed solely because she was suspicious.

"There was a monk in England that spurred an attack on our camp," she explained. "Before the attack, I had a vision of a man clad in black, his face hidden by a shadowy hood, his hands dripping with blood, and surrounded by flies and death and decay. The next day we were attacked and learned that the monk had sought to capture me, though we never learned the reason for it. We have been worried that he might follow me north, if his desire to capture me was so earnest. When I saw Corazon, my hairs stood on end and I felt a flash of recognition. I feared he might be the monk, but he is no Christian and does not seem interested in my capture. I was just paranoid after seeing him shrouded in dark shadows."

"He came to me with an interest in seeking you," Enel told her, his lips pulled in a deep frown. "He did tell you the truth about his exile from Denmark, but he had told me that he heard tales of you and was interested in meeting you. He was also aware of whose protection you were under."

Nami came to a halt, forcing the king to stop and gaze back at her shocked expression. "He had heard of me? How would a man from the Mediterranean know of me?"

"I cannot answer that. He did not know the stories of your mother's family, only fleeting rumors spread by your father's people. He had clearly heard tales of you, though he did not fully explain how he came to know of your presence in Noreg or the knowledge he had of the wolf protecting you."

"That's impossible," she snapped. "Arlong saw fit to keep my existence a secret within the northern countries, and he rarely took me raiding to garner a reputation in Francia. And Bellemere told me that no one was spared in the slaughter of my village. Anyone connected to my father should believe me to be dead."

Enel shrugged. "I once believed you to be dead, but all it took was one man to make me see otherwise. Even when Corazon spoke of you, I had no idea you would be of Freyja's lineage. I just assumed you were a lost noble girl, stolen from a southern lord. Your giants were the ones that gave you away. And from what I gather, this was not your first attempt at escaping them. In their searches of you, there is no telling how many people were told Rán's tale, or given any other story that might garner suspicion. And Jarl Arlong should have believed you dead, as well, but he found you, anyway. _If,_ by some chance, your father's noble house is interested in information of your survival, I'm certain they have ample sources to track you down."

Then what reason could Corazon have of searching for her? What interest could he have in her? She needed to understand what he was after before she could even think to trust him as an ally as he offered. She would remain suspicious of any excuse he gave, but it was better to know all that were around her, enemy and friend alike, than remain ignorant of potential danger.

Enel tugged on her arm as he continued toward the village, forcing her to keep up with his long strides. "I saw Corazon as the trickster he is the moment he stepped onto my shores. But a trickster is easily dealt with. All it takes is one swift blow and he will be no more. For the time being, he is useful, but if that changes, or if he proves to be a threat to you, I will eliminate him. You have no reason to fear. But keep me informed of all your interactions with him."

"Of course," she agreed while wondering if she should betray whatever confidences Corazon meant to extend to her. She would have to ask Conis all she knew about the man, among other questions that were raised that day.

"When we return to the hall, you will show me the seal Arlong placed on you," Enel commanded. "Then I will know better what course you need to take so that your magic can thrive as it should."

That she could easily agree to. While she loathed being a captive to the king, she would take advantage of whatever knowledge he had. He might be mad and cruel, but he knew more of her family and their stories and magic. She was guided to this path for a reason, and she had no doubt that reason was the insight she could gain from the king. He had his whole life to learn and shape his skills while she only had a scant few months. If she had any hope of fulfilling her foremother's prophecy and saving Kid's life, then she needed to know the full extent of her magic.

Enel led her along a cart path that wrapped around the northern edge of the village so he could show her his forests and rivers. A swath of oak trees were tucked into a valley, a spot he preferred to go to meditate and listen to the world around him. It was quiet there. The only sounds came from the wind rustling through the leaves, the soft chirping of the birds hiding in the branches, and a rabbit scurrying through the underbrush.

Enel said he could hear the voices of those he ruled over from the trees. She heard nothing, but she did find it peaceful.

When they returned to the hall, she spied Ove standing outside the fortress gates with McKinley. He appeared to be deep in conversation with the militia captain, but spared her a harsh scowl and glare when McKinley noticed their return and stood straight to bow his head toward his king. A flutter of fear ran down her spine at the dark look from a man who had once been a friend, and Nami hurried to keep close to Enel's side.

In a village hall of strangers who she knew not to trust, she trusted Ove the least. His betrayal stung too deep for her to trust him. His motives behind leaving Drafn were confusing to her, only making her mistrust worse. If he found her existence so contemptible, blamed her for Kid's perceived downfall, then why did he ask to join Enel's priests? He may be a mercenary at heart, following the path of glory and riches, but he should have fled entirely and found a wealthy noble that wasn't set on possessing a cursed woman. Why subject himself to a king that was shouldering her curse if his jarl had already failed at the task?

She set those questions aside once Enel escorted her into his council room, just off the main reception hall. The priests were given orders to leave them alone, the slaves commanded to bring fruit and mead before being shooed away, as well. At the center of the room was a long table with several ornate chairs situated around it, the largest and most decorated obviously Enel's. Maps and figurines were strewn over the surface, and Nami couldn't help but glanced at the wolf that laid on its side in the region she knew Drafn to be. Another statue sat to the southeast that appeared to be of an ogre or troll, but she guessed that it was meant for Arlong based on its location near the Kattegat. A set of miniature goats surrounded the troll and left Nami to wonder what the king was planning for Arlong. Was he going to eliminate that threat for her? Or was he merely keeping an eye on the jarl? He had told her that he would deal with her former captor if he became a threat; perhaps he was keeping that possibility in mind.

A raised platform sat in one corner with furs and pillows nestled around a low table. The king waved her to sit there so they could talk in comfort, without the maps and battle plans to distract her. They spent the rest of the day drinking and eating while the king droned on about voices and dreams and the gods. He examined her tattoo and the scar slashing through it and offered to burn it from her skin to speed its removal. She balked at that idea. Her shoulder was in tatters as it was, she did not want to add a burn scar to the damage done. She preferred Heat's thoughts of allowing it to be removed naturally, not forcing it away. She told the king that she would think on it, afraid to reject his suggestion outright lest he lose his temper with her.

He bade her to share all her visions with him. She was careful to avoid mentioning Loki, and he didn't seem to take notice of any omissions as she told him of the vision that inevitably drove Kid away. He nodded and hummed and came to the decision that she needed a staff and a set of runes. Before she could question him on that, he rambled on to say that he would gather some amber stones for her to polish and carve. Amber was sacred to her family and the vision she had of amber stones in her hand told him that she needed their magical guidance. With her own staff and runes, he would turn her into a proper priestess, yet.

By supper, Nami had long finished reciting her visions. Enel had dissected each of them and agreed with the interpretations she had, though he felt there was much still missing. In the end, his counsel only provided her with the same suggestions that Heat had given to her. The one difference was the rune stones he would help her make and the freedom to practice without distraction. She would have no other responsibilities in his hall. She would study and meditate and sit with his priests during trials and meetings. She would be a figurehead and host to ceremonies and gatherings. She was to be his beautiful, regal treasure, sitting in humble repose at his side.

It all sounded utterly boring. The promise of an opulent life was a shallow lie. She was a prisoner in a gilded cage. She would have a warmer life in the wild, starving and cold and dressed in rags but free of the golden shackles and collar she might as well be wearing in Enel's hall.

She told herself it would only be for a short time. She would wait patiently and take care to move as she needed to regain her freedom. She would learn what she could, grow stronger, and see that Kid found one victory in this twisted fate they led.

She was forced to sit with Ove at supper again. He ignored her as he devoured the rich pheasant and warm broth they were served. Enel was too focused on the slave girl hand feeding him to spare her conversation, and the other priests sat at their table, eating as silently as Ove. The militia and army men spoke quietly at their tables, but were too far away to include her. The thralls wove through the room with their heads down and mouths shut. Only Conis whispered a word or two as she served her, but even she took care not to say more than necessary.

The silence was another weight on her shoulders, dragging her down into miserable solitude. Without any conversation to distract her, she was left to her thoughts, left to wonder on the state of Drafn and what Kid would do when he returned to find his people slaughtered and her gone. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back as she drank deep from a cup of mead. She would almost welcome bickering with Ove if it would keep her from thinking about her friends. She would even welcome Corazon's presence, even if she doubted his intentions.

She pushed her plate toward Ove after finishing half her meal. He spared her a curious look, sneered, and then took the food she no longer desired with hardly a grunt of thanks. As soon as Conis appeared to refill her cup, she grabbed her handmaid by the elbow and pulled her closer.

"Is the bath ready?" she asked at a whisper.

"The thralls lit the fires for the tub not long ago. It might nearly be warm enough," she whispered back.

"I would happily take a cold bath," Nami muttered as she pushed away from the table.

"Finished with your supper already?" Enel called to her.

Nami turned to give him her brightest smile. "I'm too weary from my restless sleep last night to eat another bite," she explained with feigned politeness. "I'd like to take a hot bath and get to bed early, and then hopefully tomorrow I can rise early and focus on doing everything I can to become the priestess you need."

The king nodded in understanding and waved for her to leave. "Rest well, then. I will call for you after breakfast tomorrow."

She bowed her head politely and then hurried from the hall. Conis followed behind her, rushing to keep up with Nami's pace. She wanted to get out of that hall and its oppressive atmosphere as quickly as possible.

Outside, she turned for the walkway leading toward the bathhouse. It was still light out, though twilight neared as the blue sky gradually darkened and the white clouds became tinged with pink and red. The wood structure appeared inviting as night slowly crept toward them. Slivers of orange light glowed between tightly nailed wooden slats, wisps of steam curled through the crack of the door. The small building was built on a stone foundation, with a hearth built into the corner. The bathhouse was plain compared to the rest of the hall and fortress, its carved doorframe the only part decorated with knots and sigils but no gold paint to make the carvings stand out.

When Nami opened the door to go inside, she was struck with a deep warmth and the soothing scent of salt and citrus. She stopped in the doorway to inhale, for the first time since she arrived, genuinely grateful for the king's wealth.

"The thralls brought water from the fjord for your bath," Conis explained. "King Enel typically hates bathing in sea water, he says the salt makes him feel weak. But before you arrived, he said that you would be bathing in the sea to strengthen your spirit."

She found herself appreciating the decision. The salt water would help soothe her aches, both in body and heart.

"And you mentioned that you liked the scent of the soap in your room," Conis continued, "so I had them sprinkle shavings in the water."

Nami smiled with delight for the first time in days and happily skipped into the bathhouse to disrobe. Conis shut and barred the door behind her and came over to help unpin her hair.

A large pool of steaming water sat in the middle of the room, easily big enough to fit four or five. It was built into the floor, cradled by the stone foundation and set beside the hearth that was filled with glowing embers. Golden sconces hung from the rafters, making the room glow bright against the light wood. The whole room was lined with smooth, polished planks of birch, save for the stone hearth. Benches were built into the wall to one side where another small stone hearth sat. Bundles of dried herbs were hung along the wall, the only decoration in the bathhouse that she saw.

"You don't see this style of bathhouse too often," Nami remarked as she slipped from her dress.

"The previous king traveled through the northern lands often," Conis said while she folded Nami's clothes and set them on the bench. "He visited the Rus and Finns to the north and east and grew fond of their saunas. He built this for his household and modeled it after the Finns' saunas, but with a bath included."

There was warmth in Conis' voice as she spoke of the former king. She did not have to look at her to know she was smiling. There was loss in her tone, as well. It pulled at her heart.

"Bathe with me," Nami suggested, grabbing the woman's hand to squeeze in hers. "And tell me about this former king. I hear he was a Christian, but that's all I've been told."

Conis' eyes turned somber, but she nodded and gestured for Nami to lower herself into the bath first. While Conis undressed, Nami settled onto a long wooden bench beneath the water and reclined back, dipping her hair into the scented water with a relieved moan. She could grow used to this luxury if she was not careful.

Conis slipped in beside her, causing the warm water to ripple around her and tickle her skin. She waited as the handmaid glided to the other side of the tub to grab a wooden bowl filled with white linen and soap. She placed the bowl in the water to let it float in front of them and then slid back into the spot beside Nami.

"The former king, his name was Gan Fall," Conis whispered as she dipped a cloth into the water and beckoned for Nami to take it so she could wash. "He was a kind man, respected by all in his territory. It's true that he was a Christian, but he was unlike the other Christian kings and rulers."

"How so?" Nami asked, careful to keep her voice at a hush while she scrubbed the grime from her skin.

"I'm sure you have heard the stories of the kings that force their people to convert. Many take the sword to any who resist, but Gan Fall did not," Conis explained. "He converted for many reasons, not least of which was the good of his people. Some of the Franks and Saxons refused to trade with non-Christians and demanded we convert or lose vital trade routes. We would still have connection to the Rus and some of the old eastern routes, but the greatest riches are in Francia, and further south to the Mediterranean. The Moors would not make us convert, would happily trade, but to reach them, the safest and quickest routes need to pass through Christian lands and if we could not do that freely, then we would starve. Gan Fall made the decision to convert. He was welcoming of the Christian God and willing to worship him alongside the old ways, but the Christian book says that no man may worship another god, so to keep appearances, he became devout. The rest of us were permitted to worship our gods, but we had to do so in secret. We could still celebrate the spring and midsummer with our blots. We could rejoice the harvest and feast at Yule. But we had to wear the Christian cross and listen to their priests give sermons from their holy book. We were willing to do this because our village prospered with the open trade, and without losing our people to senseless war."

"And now, with King Enel, your people are forced to follow the old ways. If any of you continued Christian practice, you would be killed, is that correct?" Nami asked while lathering her hair with the citrus scented soap.

Conis nodded. "When Enel came, it was madness. His forces outnumbered Gan Fall's by three times, but he didn't kill as many as he could. He's known for senseless slaughter, but this war was tame compared to his others."

Nami saw for herself the slaughter he was known for. She couldn't imagine a battle where he might hold back, show mercy, and spare the lives of the people. "Why would he show restraint this time?"

"He needed people. He needed worshipers and slaves. He left his army to surround the village and set up a blockade with his ships at the neck of the fjord. Anyone who tried to leave to trade with other lands were either turned back or killed if they did not peacefully yield. He seized control of the farmlands and the routes to our allies, effectively cutting us off from our main source of food. If the king did not yield, we would have starved."

"So, he surrendered?"

Conis shook her head. "Not at first. He sent his own army to battle along the eastern front. We had a long-standing trade alliance with another region in Svealand that was vital to our people. He needed to free that road and hopefully find more support to battle the rest of Enel's forces. His army was beaten and captured. The heads of three of his generals were returned him and nothing else. He attempted to treat with Enel then, but when Enel came into the village, he stood in the square and shouted for everyone to listen to him. He proclaimed himself a god, a son of Thor, and said he was there to free us from our Christian shackles. He told us that if we kneeled for him, overthrew our Christian king and gave him the throne, he would bring us more wealth and fame than any other king before." She sank back on the bench with a sigh and shut her eyes. "He somehow knew there were people in the village that resented the new faith and mixed customs. He pitted them against the rest. The old gods versus the new. In the end, he hardly needed to spare a single one of his men to overthrow Gan Fall. We did it ourselves."

"What happened to him?" Nami asked softly.

"We had only thought to exile him. He had not been a cruel king, even those who did not want to practice the Christian faith could see that. We gave him a ship, his most loyal soldiers, at least those that Enel had not chosen to keep as slaves for his ark, and enough rations to see them to Iceland." Conis' lips pursed in a tight frown, her expression turned pinched with grief. "A few months later, Enel claimed that Gan Fall had returned and threatened to seize some of the lands that once belonged to him. He said he slew him, as he should have, and then captured any in the village that spoke favorably of the former king. He executed them as traitors, said they had been plotting a rebellion against him, and left their corpses to be eaten by ravens in the square for a month, until there was nothing left but bones."

Nami swallowed down bile. It was a familiar story, one she knew far too well. At least Genzo was still alive, though suffering at Arlong's hands. And there was no telling how long before Arlong's patience wore thin and he destroyed whatever was left for her to return to in Tingstad. She wished he had exiled Genzo, spared him the pain that came with a life of slavery, but Arlong would never be that merciful.

Conis bore the weight of her story without shedding a tear, though her expression said she held back plenty. Over the years, it became easier to feign apathy, to wear a stoic mask in the face of injustice.

"We had hoped that Enel's claim was a lie," Conis added. "We never saw his body, nor those of his army. We thought he used the claim to silence any potential dissent. Gan Fall might be out there still. He might be living a peaceful and happy life with the Christians in Iceland."

"I hope he is," Nami said. She could hear the hope in the handmaid's voice. If their former king still lived, there was a chance he would return to reclaim his throne. Nami doubted he would ever come back, even if he desired to. There was too much against him in exile. He would need a strong, well-supplied army and the ships to carry them through the roughest seas. That would cost money, more than an exiled king could possibly attain. It wasn't wholly impossible, depending on the influence he may garner in Iceland, but unless he left with a hoard of gold, he would struggle to win over every heart and sword to his side. Some might join for the promise of glory and nothing more, others might join in the hopes the war would be won and they could be in the service of a king, others yet might sell themselves in the hope of returning from their own exiles, but there was no guarantee that it would be enough. She still had no idea how Kid would win this war, though she would do everything in her power to see he did. At least he had his wealth and whatever influence he might have with other jarls and landholders to build a stronger army. He was not working from exile.

Conis gathered her frayed emotions and managed a meager smile. "I just hope he is at peace, whether he is in this realm or another."

Nami took her hand and squeezed it in silent agreement. "There's another thing I am curious about – the man in the square. I heard some women mention he belonged to a berserker. Who did they mean?"

Conis cleared her throat and bowed her head. "There was a tribe far to the north that laid claim over a stretch of rich lands. Enel seized the lands, chased the people off, and destroyed the fertile grazing lands of their reindeer herds for his quarry."

"A quarry? What has he been mining there?"

"Iron. He means to find gold in those lands, but the iron has brought him plenty of wealth in trade with the Danes. His blacksmiths have also worked tirelessly to use the extra ore to keep his militia well-armed. They have the best of everything because of that iron – swords, spears, axes, armor. The king has even crafted a halberd for himself that he has painted gold. It sits in his bedchambers, waiting to be used should his spear ever fail him." Conis frowned grimly. "The tribe is led by berserker chieftain that follows in the footsteps of his forefathers. He's vicious and short-tempered and sends his warriors to steal crops and cattle. Last autumn, we lost over a quarter of our harvest to an attack."

"And the king has only captured a soldier to torture in the square? I'm surprised he hasn't battled them."

"He says they're a nuisance, but easily ignored. He laughs them off most days. If they are captured, he tortures them before executing them and sending their remains back to their chieftain as a warning. He would rather not waste more resources than necessary on them, not until they prove to be a serious threat to his rule." Conis sighed. "I know many of the villagers just wish he would wipe them out. They bring more trouble to us than we need. But… They are trying to survive, just as we are. I cannot begrudge people only looking to feed their families. We're supposed to care for each other, share our hearth and home to those that need it. Perhaps if we invite them in, share our resources with them, then we can all live in peace again."

It was a noble and idealistic thought, but Nami knew it would not be so easy. Enel stole their land and has since treated them unjustly. If their leader was as prideful as the berserker she knew, he would not take that insult well. He would not willfully bend his knee for peace. He would fight for what was rightfully theirs, no matter who suffered in the meantime.

She turned to cross her arms on the side of the tub, resting her head on them as she hummed in thought. She wondered if Kid could make common cause with this other berserker. He could use every ally he could find, but prideful men did not always join hands so easily. They had a common enemy. So long as they did not let their personal grudges impede their ability to agree to an alliance, they might be able to join their strengths together.

How to send word of this other berserker to Kid, though? Enel would not permit her to send any messages to Drafn, not unless they would benefit him. She needed an emissary, but she had no one she could trust. And if she had someone she could trust with a message, she would not want to use them unwisely. If they were caught, they would be killed, and she would not have that blood on her hands.

She buried her face in her arms with a defeated groan. She couldn't rush for any answers. She had only been in Oslo for a day. Kid was likely still in Hedeby, and if he wasn't, she had more to worry about with him than sending a messenger. His reaction when he found Drafn in ruins would not be pretty. All her planning might be for naught if Killer and the rest fail to control him. He might be on the way to Oslo in a reckless pursuit to save her at that very moment.

She would rather see him in chains than rushing to his death.

Nami's eyes grew heavy as she lounged in the bath. The warm water and sweet scents made her weary mind turn drowsy.

"We should get you in bed," Conis suggested when she noticed her dozing off.

Nami grunted in response and let the handmaid help her climb from the tub. She hoped she would find sleep that night. She would need the rest to think clearly in the days to come.

But she knew the rest she needed was far out of reach, for as soon as her head hit the pillow she was greeted with a furious wolf in chains.

* * *

Corazon rarely found sleep in life. Even as a child, before he lost his safe, comfortable world, he did not fall asleep as easily as others. His sister could find sleep on a bed of rocks while he tossed and turned on a bed overstuffed with down, swaddled in the warmest furs. After the deaths of his family and loved ones, his dreams were too torturous to endure, so he put off sleep whenever he could. Dark rings were ever-present beneath his eyes, but it was not often that he felt truly exhausted.

That night his sleep was not interrupted by dark, blood-soaked dreams. He could have happily slept with ease, lulled by the wind rustling through the trees outside his temporary home. Unfortunately, his new house guest refused to be silent.

"I'm beginning to regret sparing your life," he idly mused as Nezumi rattled the thick wooden bars of his cage. His iron shackles clanked together with his every movement, hardly a soothing lullaby to fall asleep to. "Perhaps I should cut your arms and legs off. That should cease your pointless efforts."

His captive fell still and Corazon rolled onto his side in the bed of furs he lay in. Squinting through the light provided by the glowing embers in the hearth, he glared at Nezumi's cage on the far end of the household. He had hoped the gag in the man's mouth would be enough to keep him quiet in his cage, but the merchant was a stubborn one. He should have left him to freeze and rot outside for a night. The threat of being a predator's late-night meal might have deterred him from making a racket. Then he would show some gratitude for Corazon's small mercies after he allowed him into the house.

The man had yet to prove himself useful enough to keep alive. When Corazon removed the gag to question him, Nezumi only spat and hissed at him, filled with vile contempt and unearned arrogance.

"Trafalgar, you monster, free me at once," he hollered, his slender fingers wrapped around the bars of his cage to rattle in some vain attempt at breaking them.

Corazon slammed his foot into those vulnerable fingers, trapping them around the bars. He pressed into them until Nezumi cried out in pain and wrenched his hands free.

"If you know what is best for you, then you won't use that name again," Corazon warned. "It's unfortunate I still have use of your tongue, otherwise I would have cut it out already. I could always satisfy myself with cutting other things off."

Nezumi snapped his mouth shut and glared. The threats of dismemberment had been the only things that got him to shut up. He knew Corazon's reputation, that those threats were not hollow ones.

Corazon had hoped his silence signaled his compliance, but when he began to question him about Nami and everyone connected to her, Nezumi returned to his blustering tirades of vengeance and wrath until Corazon shoved his gag back into his mouth. He was nearly bit in the process and considered removing some of the man's teeth in their next round of questioning.

"Your captivity could be much easier if you would only share what you know of her," Corazon mused.

Nezumi growled around his gag and rattled his shackles again.

"You must be furious right now," he continued, slowly smiling. "You were sent to fetch the Lady Nami, surely promised gold and jewels for your effort. Instead you are here, the captive of a monster in exile, starving and cold and bound in shackles. Your men are dead. Your title useless. And the giant that sent you powerless to help you judging by how easily the king slaughtered his kinsmen. Meanwhile, the woman you were sent for is sleeping warm and comfortable in an opulent bed chamber, tended to by a kind handmaid, served the most decadent meals she could ever hope to sample, and lavished with all the riches you so desire."

Nezumi made no sound. Corazon took that to mean he was listening.

"I am your captor, that is true," he went on as he sat up and leaned toward the cage. "But I am also the key to your freedom. I spared you for a reason. I do not mean to see you die here, not if you can be of more use to me alive. The more agreeable you are, the better your chances of leaving here alive and… _mostly_ unharmed."

The chains clanged together as Nezumi slowly lifted his hands to tug at the white cloth tightly bound over his mouth. He moaned when he could not pry it loose and rattled his cage door to signal for Corazon to let him speak. He stood from his bed and went to open the cage. He gave the man a sharp look of warning before he loosened the cloth and sat back, bidding him to say what he would.

"What is your interest in Lady Nami?" Nezumi asked, his voice quiet and hoarse, barely more than a raspy whisper.

"That is none of your business," Corazon said. "What is _your_ interest in her?"

Nezumi chuckled. "My only interest is in what her family can do for my station."

"Which family?" Corazon asked.

"Her father's, of course." Nezumi smiled. "Like I care one whit about some old legend. It is nothing more than myth what her mother's ilk were. She is powerless, but not useless. She will disrupt the Norman folk and their duchy, even if she has no claim to their lands. She will incite chaos among the nobles. Bring war to their people. And when Arlong is the last one standing, I shall have a powerful and rich ally."

"All in the pursuit of wealth." Corazon chuckled. "Such a noble and gentile lord you are."

"Without knowing your own motives, I cannot abide such mockery," Nezumi said with a snide curl of his lip. "Wealth is power. Power is wealth. If one is to survive in this miserable world, one must have all the power they can have. Arlong understands this. _Nami_ understands this. Do not be deceived by her somber complacency or kind smiles. She was raised by a monster of myth, a giant as greedy as they come. She cares only for herself. She will do whatever she must, _sacrifice_ whoever she must, all for her own selfish desires and greed. She is a thief disguised as friend. A demon in the guise of an angel. She is cruelty and malice and her heart is cold as ice beneath all the warmth and beauty. Whatever you desire of her, take care to never trust her, _especially_ if she is kind to you. She will stab you in the back as soon as you turn around."

Corazon cocked his head and lifted a brow in curious amusement. "A contemptible opinion of a woman you are so eager to use for you own contemptible greed."

"Do not mistake my words as contempt, _Trafalgar_ ," Nezumi said, that rat-like grin begging to lose a tooth or two. "I have nothing but the utmost respect for her determination. She knows what she needs to do to survive. She knows to use everything in her power to get ahead, to win. Her ambition cannot be rivaled. She is not hindered by the rules of a civil society. She will not be held back by sentiment and weak persons. She will play her role of delicate lady to earn love and praise, to be treated softly and with kindness. And she will not shy away from cunning and deceit and trickery if her pretty smile is not enough to get what she wants. She's even abandoned her own family for her own sake."

"Her family?" He had not spoken with Nami long, but as far as he could tell, she was kind-hearted. Her remark on Conis being separated from her father for the first time in so long felt personal. She knew that pain, that fear. He could not imagine her lying in the sympathy she felt.

Nezumi tittered with laughter. "You don't believe me? Ask her yourself, then. Ask her about _Nojiko_. Ask her about the sister she left behind to bear Arlong's wrath while she ran off to play princess and lover to a pack of wolves. Those two have been inseparable since Nami was an infant, from what I have heard. Yet she left her without an ounce of remorse, knowing very well that Arlong would show the girl no mercy in his anger. She would be punished for her sister's sins…"

Corazon had heard enough and shoved Nezumi's gag back in place. It hardly muffled the merchant's tittering. He stood and kicked the cage door shut, locked the bolt, and spun for his bed.

Nezumi's remarks agitated him, though he could not understand why. The woman was a means to an end for him. She could be a saint or a sinner, a lady or a monster. It did not matter. He didn't even care if she was a trustworthy person. She was a pawn.

But he did not like hearing the vile rat call her a monster and demon. She didn't appear so monstrous. She seemed kind. Then again, he had more experience than he would like with kind-faced monsters. He was fostered by the cruelest monster with the largest grin, by a family that callously took from anyone they could, be it their wealth or their life. A family that was only stepping stones to the man that led them, a disposable army to his ambitions. He knew that a smiling face could be nothing more than a mask to keep you from seeing the knife they hid in their hand.

If Nami was such a witch, he would not let his guard down, though he had not intended to in the first place. She was a pawn. _He_ was the deceitful one. But it would be wise to be wary, at least until he knew more.

A trickster watched over her, led him to intercept her on this path. Nothing and no one could be trusted in the madness that was on the horizon. Sometimes the kindest eyes were the cruelest.

"Ask her about Nojiko," Nezumi's words echoed in his head.

The next time he spoke with her, he would do just that.

* * *

 _Outside Hedeby_

His amber dreams had taken him back to the sun dappled field and the chains binding him to cold, unforgiving stone. The forest was still, eerily quiet as he trashed and hollered for his freedom. He knew they were out there, listening, waiting, watching. While his mind grew ever more frantic, they were a promise of peace and serenity kept out of his reach.

The sun glistened off the golden bristles of his boar. The trees rustled against a stag's mighty antlers. They were out there. Tormenting him with the peace he desired, driving his madness to new heights.

He woke in a chilly cave with yet more chains binding him to stone. His temple throbbed. His eye swelled. His shackles bit into his flesh. His rage grew.

They were not godly chains that bound him there and he swore he would shatter them and take the heads of all who thought to keep him from her. He thrashed and fought, ignoring every slice of metal through his flesh. Blood slicked his hands, but he did not care. He tried to use the blood to slip his hands through the shackles, but only earned more deep cuts for the effort.

His shouts for freedom echoed off the cave's imposing walls. He yelled for anyone who might be listening. He cursed Bonney's name, her family, her people, the very soil she grew her apple trees in. Surely, she had guards out there, laughing at his indignity. She would hear of the blight he called on her and come to him fuming. And hopefully with a key to end his agony.

Hours passed, as best he could tell, but no one came. He was trapped in solitude, only his own voice to keep him company. He didn't even have his men to console him and for a fleeting second a flash of worry broke through the madness. She wouldn't take his crimes out on them, would she?

He fought even harder, until he heard stone rattle and chains groan and give. A rock came free. A chain loosened. Footsteps came rushing in and with one swift strike to his aching temple the sun dappled field greeted him once more.

When Kid woke again, his limbs were stiff and sore. His wrists burned from his cuts, his face throbbed, and he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his lips. He could feel the blood trickle from the cut beside his eye, and his lower lip was tender when he ran his tongue over it. The guards had roughed him up this time. It didn't matter to him. He was more concerned with the new weight of chains wrapped around his arms. They had bound him even more, secured the chains he had loosened, and ensured he would not have another chance at breaking free.

It would have sent him into another rage, but his mind was foggy from the strikes and the hopelessness of the situation dragged him down. Restless energy coursed through his veins, yet he felt too tired and heavy to move as he slumped against the cave wall. This was his punishment for abandoning her. This was the fate he would live for turning away from Nami on the brink of a storm.

"Have you finally calmed?" a voice echoed from the entrance to the cavern that was his prison. He strained his tired eyes to see through the shadows as someone moved. Pink hair and a painted scowl met him as Bonney stepped into a slender shaft of light. "The guards swear you made the ground tremble in your rage."

He grunted and gave a half-hearted jerk to the chains around his chest and arms.

"You have not eaten in over a day," Bonney said as she eased down onto a boulder across from him. He heard the strike of flint and the flare of a flame and turned away as she lit a candle before the sudden light could blind him. "And you struggled so much in your sleep when my men were fixing your chains, they had to beat you down to make you sit still. You're probably too exhausted to break those chains now."

He blinked to clear his hazy vision to look upon the earl. Her expression was blank save for the annoyance simmering her eyes. She wore a simple blue dress, her waist and breasts bound with leather armor. A collar of brown fur wrapped around her neck, masking the bruises he knew were there. His grip had been tight enough to strangle a lesser being. Bonney was not strong enough to come away from his rage unscathed. He doubted anyone would have if she had not found a way to appease him.

"Why am I still alive?" he asked. His throat was sore from shouting, dry from lack of water. It hurt to speak, but he needed answers to all the questions swirling in his mind. "And where am I being kept?"

"I needed to keep your imprisonment a secret from the village, so I brought you to the caverns I keep more unsavory outlaws. If I had bound you in your room, you would have alerted the people with your shouting when you woke," she explained, a quirk of her lips giving away masked humor. "And I found it fitting to bind a ravenous wolf to a stone."

He hissed at the comparison, but could not argue the logic. He felt as furious as Fenrir surely must be.

"As for why you are still alive and not decorating a spike in the square," Bonney continued with a sigh. "You are not meant to die here."

Two guards entered the cave with plates of food and a pitcher. They set the food and drink beside the earl and left without another word, leaving the woman to torment him with the food as his stomach growled. He truly had not eaten in over a day. The drink called to him even more than the food. He would drink straight from a goat's teat if it would quench his thirst.

"My counsel argued with me all of yesterday about your punishment. They thought I should take an axe to your neck," Bonney said as she picked at her meal.

He glared as she tossed a slice of meat into her mouth and happily chewed, letting out a hum of pleasure that only made him hungrier.

"Why don't you?" he growled, sneering as she took a bite of cheese and washed it down with her drink.

"Have I ever told you the story of my birth?" she asked with a flippant air that annoyed him.

A flare of anger energized him and he lunged at her despite the chains binding him fast to the stone. "I don't care about your birth," he snarled. "Tell me why I still live. And what have you done with my men?"

"Your men are safe," she said, unconcerned with his thinning temper. "I have not robbed them of the hospitality they are due. They tried to help me, but you and I both know that there was nothing they could do to stop you from killing everyone. You were beyond everyone's control until my man brought me the amber you so desperately sought."

She sighed as she picked up another strip of meat. He whimpered at the tender sliver that looked like it might be venison. His stomach growled at how good it must taste. Earl Bonney had the best cooks, the best spices, the best food. And he was _famished_.

"I cannot kill you, but I cannot set you free just yet," Bonney said. "And the story of my birth will tell you why, so will you listen?"

He growled but grudgingly agreed. "At least free my hands so I can eat and drink, woman," he said, fighting at his chains one more time. "I'm starving."

"I know," she said, though did not move to free him. "And you will starve until I trust that you won't try to break your chains again."

"Heartless bitch," he grumbled under his breath.

That got Bonney to move. He howled when she took him by the nose, twisting it so hard that he feared she would rip it from his face. "And you are an ungrateful ogre," she hissed. "Show some gratitude for the woman who has not only spared your life, but is also protecting you from outlawry."

"Tell your story, _bitch_ , and maybe then I'll be grateful," he hissed back.

She released his nose to smack him. The sharp slap was hard enough to make his ear ring and jaw flare with a fiery pain. His head spun and he blinked to reorient himself while Bonney stepped away, grumbling curses under her breath. Once she was seated with the last of her food and he could see straight again, she shot him a glare to warn him off angering her further.

As if he cared about her threats.

"Get on with your story, woman," he barked

Bonney ground her teeth together, but held herself back. He could see her hand tight around a loose rock, prepared to chuck it at him. She took a deep breath and then forced herself to relax.

"My parents had trouble conceiving me," she began. He rolled his eyes and sank back in his chains. He didn't care about her family or their troubles, couldn't imagine how this story could relate to him or explain why he was chained up and not a head on a spike. "They tried for five years to no avail."

"Your mother was barren. So, what?" Kid grumbled, already impatient to get to the end of the story and the reason he was not dead.

She threw the rock at him, narrowly avoiding his head to strike him in the shoulder.

"She was not barren," Bonney hissed. "My _father_ was to blame." Kid cocked his brow at that accusation. A childless marriage was often blamed on the woman first, though impotency was a valid reason for a woman to declare a divorce. "He tried to blame my mother," Bonney went on, "especially when she threatened divorce. He swore he must have children out there with any number of the lovers and mistresses and slaves he had bedded in his life, but when my mother sought them out, he was proved to have none. Not a single child was sired by him. That knowledge was nearly their ruin."

Kid could imagine it was. If her father was so quick to turn the blame onto her mother, he likely knew before that he could not sire any children. To have that knowledge made known would damage his reputation, his pride, and his standing in society. From what he knew of Bonney's family, her mother was the one of noble birth, her father was a warrior elevated by their marriage. Her mother was from a line that boasted ancestry to Idunn, the goddess that kept the apples of youth the other gods relied on for their long, youthful lives. Their family orchards were said to make an old man feel like a babe again, a tale that saw the family prosper for generations. Her father might not have lost much wealth in a divorce, but his name would be ruined and that would be as good as losing everything.

"Divorce was almost guaranteed. My mother had no shortage of potential suitors if she decided to let loose her husband, but their families tried to heal the growing divide between them." Bonney snorted. "My father was highly respected, a good leader, strong in battle. Their people felt safer with him seated beside my mother. He would keep them from unnecessary war. But if he could not provide an heir, it would not matter in the long run. They would end up at war with any neighbors that sensed their weakness. My mother needed a child, not a husband.

"They continued to try through one more winter, but the strain of failure reached a breaking point come the spring. It was worsened by a deluge of flooding rain. They had not seen the sun in weeks. The fields were nothing but mud, no crops taking root. The river swelled beyond its banks, swept away four children and an old woman. The roof of their stores leaked and the grain they had left from the last harvest developed a black rot. The first apples to grow in their orchard were diseased, filled with meal worms and rotten to the core. And finally, a flux hit half the village that took the lives of twelve. My mother called it a blight, a curse for their folly in trying to save an ill marriage.

"But just as she was preparing to kick my father out, a man came to visit the village. The day he came, the sun broke through the clouds for the first time that spring and the weather turned pleasant and warm. My parents had been bickering if they spoke at all, their divide had turned that chilly, but the moment their guest stepped into the hall, peace and light reigned."

Kid shifted in his chains, remembering the sun-lit field and the man who brought him a promise of peace. He was beginning to see why this tale was important to him.

"My mother swore this man brought laughter and joy that first night he was with them. His smile was captivating, his eyes as bright as the blue skies above, his hair as golden as the rye in the field. My father was as taken by him as my mother. He was always serious and stern. The only time he was seen smiling was the day he married my mother, but he said those tales weren't true, either. He did not smile. But that man brought a smile to his face with ease." Bonney chuckled. "He was a god. My mother knew it the moment she saw her husband smile. No one else could bring such peace and joy to their household.

"That night they feasted on meager offerings and gave him the last drops of their mead. When he seemed merry and content, my mother whispered in his ear of their torment. He nodded in understanding and set his hand on her belly. He said nothing, but smiled at her. She was reassured when he took her husband from the hall. They were not seen again until the next morning, my father filled with an odd glow as their guest thanked them for their hospitality. Before he left, he pulled my mother aside and whispered his instructions in her ear."

" _Walk your orchards every dawn, when the sky is pink. When you come across the first red apple, eat it – skin and flesh, seed and core – then return to your husband and lay with him. Sow no discord. Speak no cruel words. Make love and nothing more. Do this every day, without fail, until the first winter chill sets in. You will be blessed with a strong daughter by the following autumn."_

"His only condition was that they name their daughter for his beloved niece, for the jewels his dear sister loved, and their daughter would be born with the strength to bind a great wolf and protect his family's woven fate," she finished.

Kid growled as that information sank in. He was bound to protect the prophecy foreseen centuries ago by Nami's foremother. Did that mean there was a chance they would break the curse as they hoped? Or would he die no matter what Nami did? Would he still have no hope of living alongside her? Was the matter entirely out of his control?

"How long do I have to remain like this?" he grumbled.

Bonney shrugged. "A week. A fortnight. A month. I cannot say."

"Why?" he asked. "Why would Freyr see me bound? If his grand-niece is in danger, he should want me free to save her."

"I have not spoken to him, so I cannot answer for him, but I do know your lady is surely more valuable than you know."

"If she's so valuable, then I cannot let her fall into Enel's hands," he argued.

"It's too late for that. You left, and judging by the madness that claimed you, she's already gone. All you can do is trust that she has chosen the right way, and if you are here to fulfill the destiny Freyr claimed for me, then I think she is where she needs to be." Bonney stood and swept the dirt from her dress. "In the meantime, you should spend your time in chains contemplating what you hope to gain from her, and consider what you will have to give in exchange."

"You're just going to leave me here?" he snarled as she headed toward the cave entrance. She didn't look back, even as he jerked at his chains and loosened one. "Will you even bring me food?"

"You can starve to death for all I care," Bonney called back with a blithe wave. "Perhaps it will teach you some patience and humility."

"Bonney," he shouted once she vanished into the shadows. "You can't leave me here!"

His enraged bellows echoed in the empty chamber as he found the energy to fight his restraints. He heard a chain clatter to the floor before men ran in with spears and swords drawn. Light burst behind his eyes as the pommel of an axe crashed into his temple.

He woke in the sun dappled field with a voice whispering in his ear.

 _What would you sacrifice for her?_

 _What would you give for the strength to keep her?_

 _How deep does your love go?_

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Mostly an info dump chapter, but hopefully you all enjoy it. I don't think I have any notes on the lore I reference since I make it pretty obvious here (especially the whole Fenrir binding/ Kid binding bit) and spoke on most of it before. Freyr's reference are, again, the boar, sunlight, fertility, peace, good weather, and his generosity. He and Freyja are said to be the two most generous and easily approached in the lore. Freyr's ability to bring peace is of obvious importance to someone like Kid, lol. For that man to find peace in the middle of rage, he would need a god's intervention._

 _Freyr and Loki are very important this arc, thus why they are given direct involvement and voices... Also, they inspired it and I couldn't say no._

 _And now you all know why the image I made for this fic uses the panel of Kid beaten by Kaidou. I enjoying beating him up, honestly. And chaining him. It just makes him angrier. XD_

 _I will try to be quicker with the next chapter, but the summer is a really difficult time for me to be productive. My mood fluctuates a lot and I'm easily distracted. Hopefully with winter nearing, I'll become consistent again. Thank you for your patience._


	28. Chapter 28

_Warnings: Violence, gore, mutilation, mentions of rape/ sexual assault._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Perspective_

 _Tingstad_

She watched Arlong storm through the village for the third time that day. He was on the verge of a rampage, though she had expected him to lose all patience days ago. Somehow, by some god's grace, he had restrained his temper as he waited for Chew and Nezumi to return. But every day that they were away, without any word of their progress, that tenuous peace grew more and more strained.

Nojiko took care to keep her head down as she did her chores, but watched with a wary eye for violence to erupt. He would spare her from the worst of it at first. He needed her alive to lure Nami back. If he killed her, it would be for Nami to witness, so that she would learn her lesson for this escape and see that it was her last.

The villagers would not be so lucky.

They did their best to keep quiet and avoid Arlong and his men, but the complacency was a cover to prevent him from searching their homes for weapons or witchcraft. She knew of three men with swords hidden beneath their floorboards and beds, five with Dane axes pilfered in a raid and hidden in their goat pens and barns, and countless others had hidden bows and arrows in their rafters. One woman had etched a sigil for a curse into her distaff and every day she muttered her prayers beneath her breath, biding the gods to watch over Nami and keep a cloak over Arlong's eyes so he could not find her. Another woman had thought about invoking the land spirits and wights, but that was dangerous for innocent and evil alike and best used as a last resort. They were prepared for a revolt, but waited for the right time to act.

They could not risk Arlong catching on to their plans.

Nojiko watched Arlong make his way to the dock while anxiety trickled down her spine. A woman didn't move fast enough and was shoved out of the way. She came dangerously close to cracking her head open on a stone, but her husband caught her in time and sent a furious sneer toward the jarl's back. If any of Arlong's men had seen the contempt in his eyes and alerted him to it, that would be the end of their peace.

She had to do something to distract him.

Dawn, midday, and dusk, Arlong stood at the dock and waited for a sign that his men would return. When he wasn't at the dock, he paced the hall, often taking his wrath out on the slaves. Genzo had four new scars – two on his face, one on his stomach, and another on his left hand. Kuroobi had one of the slave women see to Arlong in his room, hoping she would ease some of his tension. She ran out with a black eye, split lip, and fresh purple bruises blossoming around her throat. Arlong was still foul-tempered the next morning, so Kuroobi's plan failed and left a woman to suffer unnecessarily.

Nojiko had one plan that might work to keep Arlong occupied, but the idea left a bad taste in her mouth. She would be subjecting other people to Arlong's temper. It might spare their village a week or two of respite if it worked, though.

Her idea could not come from her. It had to come from one of his men. If she made any suggestions to them directly, it would be met with suspicion and likely be dismissed. If she spoke to the wrong person, she might be hit and locked away as punishment. Hachi was the only one she might be able to talk to, but even he knew to doubt anything she might say if it related to Nami if she said it directly. Arlong and his men had to think they came up with the idea on their own, or believe that they had caught Nami and Nojiko in some trap. They had to think she slipped up, that she gave away information she had held in through their questioning. That way Arlong could gloat about it and not see it as a trap.

Kuroobi and Hachi had chased after Arlong with a handful of men to keep him from destroying too much. The village kept them fed and produced the wealth they needed for their future endeavors. They could not have it destroyed in one of Arlong's fits.

The hall was left to the slaves, none of whom would suit her plan, but some of Arlong's men lingered around to see that the chores were done and no one ran away. She knew that at least one would be watching their most valuable slave.

Genzo was cleaning out the sty as Nojiko took a pail outside to milk a goat. His guard sat nearby, clipping his nails and not giving his charge more attention than necessary. Heavy shackles around Genzo's wrists and ankles would prevent his escape, even without their chains. Genzo was too weak to bear them and run, not with ease. If he took off, he would be caught quickly and punished for the attempt. That punishment was an extra deterrent. His fresh cuts were still healing and the one on his cheek had swelled with infection the day before. Nako had lanced and bandaged it with herbs, but it still wept with bloody pus. Genzo could not risk new cuts to slow his healing further.

She said nothing to the former Jarl as she led the goat to a stool beside the sty. The guard spared her a glance, and she had to tighten her fists to keep them from shaking. She hoped this would be enough.

"How are you faring today, Genzo?" she asked loud enough for the guard to hear.

Genzo paused in his work to look at her, his brows furrowed in confusion. She did not strike up conversation when they were worked in the past. She kept her head down and mouth shut to save him from any abuse. He might be struck for this if it hindered his chores and the knowledge that he might suffer in her plan made her stomach knot with guilt.

He glanced sidelong at the guard and set back to digging out the old slop in the sty. "Well enough, I suppose."

Silence returned with that answer and Nojiko continued her own work. When Genzo next paused to stretch his back and rub the raw skin beneath his shackles, she peeked toward him and caught his gaze. He gave her a curious look. She pointedly nodded toward the inattentive guard, confusing Genzo further, but the expectant expression she wore signaled her needed to speak.

"Is something bothering you, Nojiko?" he asked as he set aside his shovel and went to take a drink of water from a skin that hung from the sty's fence.

She cleared her throat. "No," she said, making the lie obvious as she fidgeted on her stool and pitched her voice high. "Nothing that concerns me."

Genzo's scowl deepened. He looked toward the guard who had finished clipping his nails and now picked the dirt from beneath them. His grooming appeared to have his whole attention, but she had no doubt that he was listening.

"Arlong is growing restless," she said with a feigned whisper. "Chew should have returned by now."

Genzo grunted but said nothing of his opinion. He hoped that Nami would remain lost to them, just as she did. It would do him no good to say as much.

"I am beginning to think Nami did not go north," she admitted, as though resigned to share her doubts. The guard shifted where he sat and she saw his gaze flicker toward her. He pretended to pick at a stubborn nail bed, hissing and grumbling to himself to make them think he paid no mind to their conversation. It was silent permission for Genzo to take a break and listen to what Nojiko said, all for the guard's benefit.

"What do you mean?" Genzo hissed, taking better care to keep his voice down. His eyes looked frantic and angry, pointedly glaring at the guard as he came closer to her. She could not tell him why she was speaking about Nami with someone there to overhear, she could only shake her head and hope Genzo caught on to her scheme.

"How many times has Nami run from Tingstad?" Nojiko asked. "She usually flees alone. The only time she has left with someone else was when a tutor tried to take her away from here. But this time she made sure to run with me."

"Because you are her sister," Genzo urged. "She would not leave you behind this time."

"But she did," Nojiko said firmly and watched his brows lift in surprise.

"Don't tell me you are doubting your sister?"

"I don't know what to think of her plan any more. This is the longest she has remained gone without a single clue to her whereabouts. If Chew has not returned in his search of the north, then that means she is not there." Genzo appeared confused, so she beckoned him to come closer, as though she wanted to keep the guard from overhearing. "She told me that we were going north, but she did not say anything about the Noreg king. She said nothing of where specifically we would go, only that we would find lodging somewhere to the north so the faering would not be burdened with a longer journey in the straits. If she had planned to rest at any of the villages or farms along the coast, Chew would have heard word of her and sent a messenger back to keep Arlong calm."

"But we've heard nothing…" Genzo mused.

"Because she didn't go north, at least not as far as they suspect." Nojiko glanced toward the guard to see him watching through a tendril of long green hair. "I think she knew that I would be caught before we left, or perhaps she intended to abandon me at one of the farms so that I would be found. Either way, she meant to have me here to throw Arlong's search astray."

Genzo appeared to be catching on. "She knew you would never betray the direction she told you, that you would turn Arlong in the opposite direction."

Nojiko nodded eagerly. "But she's been caught and dragged back enough times to know that it would never be so simple. Arlong is too smart to believe anything I tell him. If I said south, he would look north."

"But she did not go south," Genzo pointed out. "The earl in Hedeby said nothing of her."

"She did not go south, either. She knew Arlong would cast a wide net, check the south and the north in case I did tell the truth. She could not cross the straits in that faering. It would have been suicide. But she could not go directly east over the farmlands."

Genzo shook his head. "Those farms and villages fall under Arlong's rule. They would know her and alert Arlong to her whereabouts. The same can be said for the regions to the south. Even if they do not fall under Arlong's territory, the landowners know of Nami from her previous attempts to flee. They wouldn't want trouble with Arlong while he allows them to live in peace. They would send her back as soon as she arrived."

"But to the north Arlong does not hold that kind of sway. They are too concerned with the Noreg king encroaching on their lands." She leaned in closer, speaking at a loud whisper. "What if she sailed past the farms near Arlong's territory and found a river inland, away from Arlong's reach? She might have found a farm that knows nothing of her or Arlong and took shelter there for a night. She would not have stayed longer than necessary. She would not stop until she put as much distance between her and Arlong as possible."

Genzo scowled. "She is likely feigning an illness as we speak to have a night in a comfortable bed with a warm meal to fill her belly. She will leave in the morning with their valuables in her skirts and their rations in a satchel." He shook his head to clear the thoughts of her thieving from any strangers that showed her kindness. It was a strong possibility, one Arlong would believe without a doubt. He saw Nami as a selfish, manipulative con-artist. A witch only concerned for herself, willing to turn her back on anyone, family included. "Where has she gone, then? If she is following the inland rivers, where does she mean to go?"

Nojiko shrugged. "I have thought on it and the only answer I have come to is Birka."

"Birka? Why there?"

"It is not far from our birthplace. There might be kin or other survivors there that know of her and will take her in. If not, the stories might at least find her an ally that will smuggle her to the Laplands her ancestral forefather had called home. Or perhaps she will find passage to Francia. Maybe even search for a home with the Rus, where no one will know of her and she can hide under a new name with no fear of Arlong finding her. She could be anywhere, but my heart says she turned east, not north."

"Hey," the guard shouted, breaking into the conversation just as she felt it done. "Get back to work, slave." He waved his knife at Genzo and the former jarl snatched up his shovel to continue his chore. "Are you still milking that goat, woman?"

"She might be going dry," Nojiko said with a trembling smile. "I can't seem to get a drop from her." She squeezed an utter and a stream of milk sprayed into her pail. "Oh! There she goes."

The guard glowered at her, but waved her off. He would not punish her, not when he knew very well that she was there to speak with Genzo, not milk a goat. And he had overheard a conversation that could help Arlong's search.

"If she stops producing, we'll slaughter her for the feast to celebrate Nami's return," he called to her as he settled back on his stool. His smile was dark, as though he knew a secret he was not meant to, one she did not want him to know. "It won't be long before Arlong finds her."

She sneered at him, playing the part of uncooperative hostage, and set to the chore she had given herself in the ruse.

That evening, the guard made his way to crouch at Arlong's side during supper. Nojiko watched as he whispered in his ear all that he overheard earlier. Arlong's lip twisted in a furious snarl and his hand tightened around his fork until his knuckles turned white. When he caught her gaze, his anger dissolved into a terrifying, shark-like grin. He had a lead on his prey and he would take advantage of her carelessness.

He raised his cup of ale to salute her. She sneered but raised her cup in return. She hoped he choked on that ale.

The next morning, he announced that he would head out to join the search and Nojiko had to hide her elation at the news. He would personally search the villages to the east with a small retinue of men, disguising his intent with a routine collection of his share of harvest and taxes. He ordered Kuroobi to take another handful of men to go northeast and search the villages outside his territory. Meanwhile, Hachi would be left in charge, ensuring that Tingstad and the villagers would know peace for the weeks that Arlong and Kuroobi were gone.

Arlong passed her on his way out, smiling at the contemptuous glare she sent him. He set his hand on her shoulder that sent a shiver of terror down her spine, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Let's hope your stupidity and carelessness brings Nami home where she belongs," he hissed. "Perhaps then I will spare the lives of this village in gratitude of your slip-up." His hand squeezed tight and it took everything she had not to show him how much his grip hurt. "But, if I do not find her in a month, I'll make you watch as I raze your precious village to the ground and piss on the smoldering corpses. Then I'll sell you to live the rest of your life as a bed slave to the vilest man I can find. Your spirit will die in agony while your body remains the plaything of a beast. And when your body finally does die, you will curse the woman that forced you to live such torment. You will curse the sister that abandoned you and know no peace for all eternity. You will be shunned from all the glorious halls and remain a shadow, a wight, haunting this world alone, with no hope for solace."

He shoved away from her laughing. "Have hope, Nojiko, and pray to the gods that I bring your sister home."

He whistled for his men to head out and waved farewell to those he left behind. She would not fear whatever punishment he doled out on them. He would not kill everyone in the village, no matter how much he might wish to. They were still useful hostages. He would not kill them until he was prepared to go to Francia and bring the duchy the chaos he promised. Genzo might be sacrificed sooner, but he had been prepared for that day since he was first enslaved. He would not fear it. And she might have to endure torture, but she would not fear that either. If Nami was safe and far away, then she would face whatever came her way and remain strong until better times came. She would protect the village that Nami sacrificed her freedom for, see that it still stood when the day came for Nami to return and set them all free.

She would have faith in her sister, even if no one else would. Her sister would return and Arlong would be overthrown. She had no doubt that it would come.

She went to sleep that night with peace in her heart. She swore Bellemere was there, lulling her with a sweet song and tender touch, whispering of the guardians she was born from and the faith the gods had in her.

 _The valkyries chose you for a reason,_ she heard as dreams of better times took her mind from the dark world she was trapped in. _Her sworn-sister. Her true guardian. The valkyries are with you. You will not fail. You will not fall. We have faith that you will see victory. We will hold you up until the very end._

* * *

 _Oslo_

Just over a week had passed since she came to the king's hall and she had settled in as well as she could. It was not a home, but she lived peacefully within the fortress walls. Her days were dull and uneventful. She woke from restless dreams, filled with frothing snarls, to breakfast with Enel and his priests. She spent her mornings walking the grounds, finding solace among the rowan trees in the courtyard. She helped the thralls in the vegetable gardens in spite of Enel's insistence she not bother with such pithy duties, but the king called her away as soon as he took notice and sent her off to train. The afternoon was dedicated to practice and prayer, either alone or with Enel. He had gathered the amber stones for her runes with ease and guided her as she carved them, encouraging her to sing whatever came to mind in association to the runes she cut into the stones to fill them with her energy and magic. When she was not praying or meditating to stretch her foresight, Enel took her to the yard his soldiers exercised in each day and saw that she practiced with her spear and axe.

" _A strong body and a strong mind are what you need, Nami,"_ he had said. _"Freyja is a goddess of war and death. There is magic in battle, too. You must not focus too much on one aspect or you will lose sight of all you can accomplish."_

She decided those lessons were of the utmost importance while she was in Oslo. War would be upon them soon and she would not shrink away in fear again. Training in Álasund had helped strengthen her spirit and resolve before their battle in England, and she had promised to take her losses there to heart, to not give up no matter how scared and beaten she was. She would not be a useless damsel in distress, forever reliant upon others to save her. She would fight for those she called friend, she would fight for those that had dedicated their lives to her.

She had to spar with Ove while practicing with her axe. She knew he would not go easy on her, but he would hear no complaints. He would not kill her. He _could not_ kill her. Not while Enel watched on and praised her for every dodge and slash and blow she landed. The challenge was wholly welcomed. She would take advantage of the chance to learn all that she could in combat, even if it left her aching all over.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she swore she caught Ove grinning when they finished, a spark of something other than contempt in his eye. It was gone in a flash, replaced by a snarl and growl that reminded her he was a traitor, not a friend.

Enel took her on with a spear, saying she would learn from no one better than he at his weapon of choice. Enel had commissioned a spear to be made for her, urging his blacksmith to craft it as quickly as the goldsmith made her necklace, if not faster. It was done in less than two days, leaving Nami to pity the poor smith with black rings beneath his eyes and burns scarring his arms.

She had the chance to give some input into the spear that would be both weapon and staff. With it, Enel said, she would learn to change the tides of a battle by magic and force combined, just as he did. The shaft was smooth birch painted blue, the color of the sea and sky to suit her strengths. It was a shorter length than the standard spear, made to be agile and useful in close combat, rather than cumbersome and reliant on distance between her and her opponent. The dark iron tip was barbed and etched with a lightning pattern inlaid with gleaming bronze.

It was beautiful, far more expensive than any weapon she had ever held, beyond anything she ever imagined possessing. Holding it in her hands made her feel powerful, like she could command the very lightning that streaked over the tip.

She took to her spear training with the same resolve she had while facing Ove with an axe. The king approached her with an air of boredom at first, casually lashing out with an untipped staff to test her weaknesses. With every lazy strike she blocked, a smile flit over his face before he struck at her again. By the end of the second afternoon, he was dancing around the yard, laughing as she chased him in a vain attempt to land one hit. Even as he teased her for being too weak and slow to strike him, he continued to praise her efforts and quick wits that got him to move at all.

That afternoon, their training went much the same way. Enel danced and parried and smacked at her openings with enough force to send a subtle current of pain up the limb but not render her incapable of continuing. If she escaped those strikes, he laughed and praised her, then flew forward to catch her off guard and send her to the ground with a sweep of his staff. Her bruises had bruises, her lungs ached for a breath, and her left hand felt numb after a hit to her elbow, but she endured, rolled to her feet, and went again.

Enel ended her practice when she nearly grazed his side, his good humor lost for a fleeting moment. He smacked her with his staff, moving faster than he had, and forced her to yield when she fell to her knees. His foot pinned her spear to the ground and the end of his staff pressed hard to the base of her throat. The anger in his eyes said he would not hesitate to slam it into the vulnerable spot if she resisted. Fear lanced down her spine, cold and hot all at once as the air crackled around her, screaming out the danger she was in if she took one misstep.

Enel's smile returned when she bowed her head in a show of submission and let go of her spear, his foul mood gone as quickly as it came. He pulled his staff away and she slumped over with a sigh of relief, too aware of how close their mock battle had come to being real.

He left her with orders to rest the next day while he saw to some business in the farmlands. She would be free to do as she pleased, but within the week, he had an assembly planned and wanted her to sit with him as he judged his people. She was expected to be well rested and dressed in the finest clothes he had for her, to remind the commoners that she stood above them, as well.

Once Enel vanished in the direction of his bedchambers, the other priests and the warriors that had watched the training all scattered off without a single hand offered to help. Conis rushed in to pick her up, giving her a shoulder to lean on as she ambled her way to her quarters. She wanted a hot bath to soothe her aches, but it would be some time before the thralls had the water heated. In the meantime, she would shed her leather armor and sweaty clothes, and have Conis rub some of the aches from her stiff limbs.

When they had turned for the hall, she was surprised to see Ove that hung back, sitting on the wooden walkway as he sharpened his axe.

"If you leave yourself open like that," he grumbled without looking up, "you're going to be stabbed in the back."

The warning sent a shiver down her spine. She could not get away from him fast enough, unwilling to ask if those words were meant to be helpful advice or a threat. She did not want to know.

She wanted to flee the hall filled with people she could not trust. She wanted a respite from the airs she had to put on while playing her part as hostage. Her cheeks ached from her forced smiles, her eyes felt heavy from the tears she held back. She needed a breath, a real breath, and a reminder that she had a purpose there.

As she hobbled along the walkway to her quarters, she noticed the falcon perched in the rowan trees, its sharp gaze fixed on her. Ohm had spent the better part of the week trying to capture it, to no avail. He returned every night grumbling and cursing at the foul creature he swore was too smart to be a simple bird. It would come close to his traps and treats, allow Ohm to stroke its feathers, then snap at his hand and fly away. The priest nearly lost a thumb and had scratches all over his arm. His dog, Holy, even had a chunk of his ear cut off when the falcon flew at it and slashed the barking dog with its talons.

If she did not know better, she swore the bird was having a hearty laugh over the chaos it created.

"Conis, let's go visit your father tomorrow," Nami suggested once inside. She lowered onto her cushioned bench with a relieved sigh and held up her arms so Conis could undo the ties of her wrist-guards and armor.

"Really?" Conis asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Nami nodded. "I'd like to meet him, and I could use a reprieve from this fortress." She also wanted to meditate without Enel hovering over her shoulder to ask questions of all that she saw. He would be away from the hall, so she would be free to practice alone, but she wanted the distance to avoid any of his men spying on her in the king's stead. She wanted to communicate with the trickster that sent her down this path, and to do that, she needed absolute privacy. "After supper, I'll see what ale and food we have in storage to gift him with."

"You don't have to give him anything," Conis insisted as she tugged Nami's armor up. "He'll be happy with our company."

"I need to show my gratitude for allowing me to know his daughter." Nami smiled up at the woman, the expression genuine and easy. "You've been a good friend this past week. I am fortunate to have you here."

Conis looked away with a cute blush as she set aside Nami's armor. "If you insist."

Nami laughed at her handmaid's bashfulness and began to kick off her shoes. "It won't be much, just a small gift. And before we go, I need to find a rat."

"A rat?" Conis asked as she continued to help Nami with her tunic. "Why a rat?"

"An offering. I haven't had any visions other than my disjointed dreams. I think I need to offer something to help them come through clearly and I think a rat would be a suitable gift considering it was a rat that spurred Enel to find me," she explained.

Conis hummed in thought. "I believe I heard one of the thralls complaining about a rat in the stores. I could have him catch it for you."

"Have him trap it alive," she said, grimacing at what she would have to do herself. She only hoped that Loki would heed her call with the meager offering. At least the falcon he was disguised as would enjoy the easy meal.

Exhausted and sore, she rested well that night. Her mind echoed with snarls and clanking chains, but her sleep remained undisturbed by the illusory sounds. She woke early to walk the grounds, bundled in her fur cloak to fight off the morning chill, and stretched out the last of her aches from her exercise. As she lingered among the rowans, she felt a prickle at the back of her neck, the sensation that she was being watched, but as she searched among the trees and walkways, she saw no one near. She shrugged the feeling off, decided the falcon must be nearby, spying on her from a rooftop or the canopy of a tree.

The scent of breakfast in the main hall spurred her to ready for the day. Conis waited in her quarters with news that one of the slaves had successfully trapped a rat for her. The rat would wait until after breakfast, but Nami sent the handmaid to see that the creature was tucked away where Enel and the other priests would not take notice of it. She did not want him asking questions about what a rat was doing alive in a box, it would only lead him to question what reason she had to use it for an offering, and that was not something she cared to explain.

She dressed simply for her day and tied her hair in a long tail, with her thick amber waves cascading down her back, and then set off to join the rest for breakfast in the hall. Enel scrutinized her the moment she walked in, as he was wont to do, this time glowering with obvious disapproval.

"You look as plain as the villagers, Nami," Enel said as she took her seat.

"I'm accompanying Conis to visit her father today. I don't want to sully my nicer dresses with a trek through the forest," she explained while smoothing out the skirt of her blue wool dress. It was still a fine dress, even if plain.

Enel hummed, unsatisfied. "You are supposed to present yourself as nobility."

"I would rather walk through the village without drawing attention to myself. I want to see more of the village and observe the people, but if they see me and recognize me, I'm afraid they would silence themselves and keep their distance. I will learn more about your subjects if they remain unaware of my presence," she gave as an excuse. "They seem more willing to share their displeasures when they don't believe you or your men are near to listen."

The king slowly smiled, a glimmer of amusement creeping into his blue eyes. "So, you mean to spy for me? I already have men walking the village to listen for whispers and gossip that might require punishment."

"And those men are known and recognized by their gait alone. I am new and hardly known. I won't be recognized immediately," she pointed out. When he remained skeptical, she turned to face him with a pout. "Please, my lord, I just want to learn as much as I can so I can best serve you in my capacity as your priestess. I promise that I will dress more regally when I walk the village with you or the other priests so I don't tarnish your magnificence."

That got a laugh out of the king and a wave of acquiescence. She swore she heard Ove snort beside her as she turned to her waiting breakfast, but when she glanced toward him, he wore a scowl while shoveling a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

The matter was dropped and breakfast carried as Enel discussed his plans with Ohm and Satori. The former was still trying to capture the falcon, but had assigned others to watch his baited traps as he grew bored with the task, so he would join Enel's tours of the farmlands for the next week. Satori was responsible for supervising the slaves that constructed the ark, a job he took on with a high-pitched laugh and ecstatic grin. He and his two brothers planned to sit in the hills with their bows ready to take out any slave that thought it safe to flee while the king was away. They would make a game of it.

Ove would be left to continue Nami's axe training, and she would otherwise be left to entertain herself as she saw fit. She already planned to use every moment of Enel's trip to strategize a way she could help Kid from Oslo. He had not yet come for her, and if the sounds in her dreams meant anything, she thought it safe to assume it would be a while before he made any attempt at her rescue. She was grateful of whatever force managed to restrain him. That could be no easy task for anyone.

After breakfast, she saw the king and his men off. Her shoulders felt lighter as she watched his horse carry him away. She had a week of relative freedom, one week without him eavesdropping on every conversation within his hall and village, one week to do what she needed.

As soon as he was out of sight, Nami hurried to gather what she needed from her quarters. She ignored Ove as she walked by him, even as his curious gaze flicked to her. She was on a mission that day. She had no time to bicker with a traitor.

Conis met her with all they needed packed away in a basket. Nami could hear the rat chattering inside, surely scared of the fate it would meet. If she had not caught it for the falcon, it would have been eaten by one of the cats that lurked around the fortress eventually. A rat's fate is never pleasant.

With her cloak properly fastened in place by her gold and amber brooches, Nami tied the pouch with her rune stones onto her belt and secured her polished axe to her hip. She snatched the basket of gifts from Conis' arm on her way out and hurried for the main gate before the handmaid could insist on carrying it.

The prickle at the back of her neck returned, but with no one in sight, she continued to ignore the sensation. She had already informed Enel and his men of where she was going that day. It was no secret. If one of them meant to spy, then she would just have to be careful when she practiced her seidr. Most of the militia and soldiers wouldn't recognize much that was different, perhaps only the offering to the falcon, but she decided that, if asked, she could explain it as her own attempt to wrangle the creature for a pet. The bird was partial to her, she could claim that she was building trust and a rapport on her own, without an obvious trap waiting for it.

Traveling through the village with her handmaid was vastly different than her tour with the king. Conis hailed any that called to her, her smile cheerful and pleasant. She stopped to chat with an old man she introduced as a friend of her father's and promised to pass on a greeting when they arrived at her home. A woman dropped a basket of fruit in the market, and Conis stopped again to help gather them. The women laughed until Nami spotted two oranges rolling away and grabbed them before they got far. The villager froze in surprise when she noticed Nami handing her the lost fruit, then took the oranges with a pursed expression and bowed her head in thanks. A noticeable chill developed and Nami knew that she was recognized as Enel's priestess. She took no offense. She was accustomed to cold shoulders in Tingstad, this was no different to her.

"Did a ship come in with more oranges?" Conis asked, either unaware of the change in the air, or pretending not to notice.

"Yesterday," the woman answered curtly.

Conis turned to Nami. "We should search out the merchant so we can buy some for you."

"I think he sold the last of them this morning," the woman interjected. "It was a small selection he had left. Most of it went to the Danish before he arrived here."

Conis' shoulders slumped in disappointment. Nami slipped her arm in hers and tugged her away. "It's all right. I've lived most of my life without more than a taste of them when I was fortunate. I can wait until the next shipment comes from the south."

"I'll inform McKinley to inspect the cargo closely and send any traders to the fortress if they bring oranges." Conis nodded. "You'll have first pick."

She truly did enjoy the benefits of being in a king's household. Even if she was treated with unveiled suspicion by the villagers, she would reap the rewards of her position until the time came to flee.

The walk to Conis' family home was a steady trek west along the bay. The village buildings thinned the further they went, opening up to plowed fields and farmhouses where the forest had been cleared. As they rounded to the south, to the peninsula her father lived on, the woods encroached upon them and left them to follow a broken path dappled with sunlight falling through thick canopies. The path wound back to the west until it ran into another road, well-worn by horse and cart, that followed along the rocky coast. It was not long after that she spotted a thin column of smoke and heard the echo of a hammer striking wood that signaled the house was near.

Conis picked up her pace, eager to see her father, and Nami found her own excitement grow.

"Father," Conis called once the house was in sight.

The hammering ceased and a moment later a man ran toward them from the far side of the house, shouting "Conis" with the same excitement as his daughter. He was dressed in a yellow tunic stained with dirt and wood dust, his brown trousers were torn and patched, and a cloth wrapped around the palm of his tanned and wrinkled hand. His arms opened to grab his daughter in a tight hug as soon as she was in reach and his eyes crinkled with a smile hidden by a thick brown beard. "How have you been? Has the king been treating you well? Have you been eating properly? Staying out of trouble?" he asked, not stopping to wait for the girl to answer any of his questions. "I'm so sorry I could not stop McKinley from taking you, but he swore he would watch over you."

Conis pulled from her father's embrace with a laugh. "I've been well. The Lady that King Enel returned with is kind." She gestured to Nami as she stood back, allowing them to greet one another properly. With the father's attention turned to her, Nami stepped forward and bowed her head in greeting. "Lady Nami, this is my father," Conis introduced.

"I've looked forward to meeting you," Nami said as the man's brows rose. "Your daughter has been very helpful and keeps me from feeling lonely here. I'm sorry the king took her from you, but I promise we will visit you often."

The man's smile returned as he quickly bowed to her. "Ah, Lady Nami, I'm so grateful to hear. Corazon informed me of your message, but I still did not expect to meet you so soon."

A shiver crawled down her spine at that name, but she refused to show her wariness of the unfamiliar man. "You don't have to be formal with me," she urged, waving for him to straighten. "You're my friend's father. Just call me Nami."

She saw a peek of his grin through his beard as he laughed and watched his shoulders relax. "Then please, call me Pagaya, and any friend of Conis is always welcome here."

"Father, what happened to your hand?" Conis asked, taking notice of the cloth. She snatched his hand to inspect the bloodstain seeping through with obvious disapproval.

He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, the crinkle of his eyes appearing sheepish as he chuckled. "The cart's wheel broke. I was repairing it this morning and cut myself on a nail. It's nothing serious. Corazon was here and helped me clean it. He should be returning later with a poultice to ward off any infection."

Conis' cheeks puffed in an annoyed pout, but she dropped his hand and nodded. "I'll help you clean the wound again when he returns. In the meantime, I'll see to the cart for you."

"Ah, you don't have to," Pagaya insisted, but his daughter was already walking off toward the back of the house.

Nami followed. "I've brought food and drink for you," she said to Pagaya. "I'll take them into the house."

"Thank you," he said. "Will you be staying for supper?"

"If that's all right with you." She nodded.

"Of course, of course," he said with a cheerful wave. "I have plenty of fish for everyone. When Corazon was by, he had been returning one of my boats from fishing and paid me with the extra that he caught. I've invited him to supper, too."

"How nice," she said with a false smile. She had been fortunate to avoid him this long, but she supposed it was only a matter of time before she would see him again. Enel's remark on Corazon's interest in her still bothered her. She would have to ask him about it when she saw him. "I'd be happy to help prepare supper for everyone."

"You don't have to," Pagaya insisted. "You're my guest."

"And you've lent me your daughter for my handmaid," she argued. "It's the very least I can do."

He relented with a hard nod and Nami ducked through the low doorframe of his home to unpack the food beside the smoldering hearth. The rat still skittered about in its box, but she could hear its claws scratching for freedom. It would eventually chew its way out if she left it alone any longer, and if she was going to have time to prepare supper, she needed to give her offering and practice her seidr sooner rather than later.

She wrapped the box in her cloak and headed outside. She found Conis hammering a wooden pin into place to secure the broken wheel of a plain brown cart in the back. Pagaya stood beside her, holding the wheel steady so it was lined up properly. The back of the house was littered with wood in all manner of use. There was a pile of slender boards by the barn, a stack of logs by the goat pen, two newly chopped trunks, one in the process of being split for a board, and all around the ground laid shards of broken wood. The unfinished hull of a small boat sat on logs, and another faering sat upside-down beside it, looking to be in disrepair.

"Did you build these?" she asked.

Pagaya looked up from his broken cart. "I'm building the new one. The faering isn't my work, but I'm attempting to fix a leak in the hull."

"You're doing this work alone? You don't have other shipbuilders?"

He shook his head. "Any other builders are working for the king. My skills are not adequate enough for his ark and the village has need of at least one free builder for the fishing boats. Until the ark is completed and the other builders are freed, all the small work falls on me."

Nami frowned. Enel was using every resource at his disposal. Pagaya was fortunate to have his freedom, but he must be stretched thin with so much work to do on his own.

"There are two other free craftsmen remaining in the region," Pagaya continued. "But they are too far from the fjord to be useful for the boats and their work costs more. I'm happy to fix anything for my neighbors, even if they can't repay me with more than a handful of cloudberries."

"That's very generous of you," she said. "I see Conis is quite handy with this work, too."

Her handmaid laughed as she wiped a stray blonde hair from her forehead. "If I did not help, he would be working night and day."

"Well, if you ever need an extra hand, send word and I'll have Conis come," Nami said. Pagaya appeared ready to argue, but she waved it off before he could say a word. "It would give me a reprieve from the hall. While I'm grateful for the king's hospitality, it is tedious to spend all my time within the fortress walls. And if I can be of any help here, I'd be glad for the work." He heaved a sigh and nodded. "Conis, I'm going to do my practice now. I'll return to help you prepare supper."

"Good luck," the handmaid responded with a happy wave. "Holler if you need anything."

She skipped off down a path toward the rock lined coast and balanced over slick boulders stained with sea salt as she looked for a place to make her offering. She found a single rowan, it's fiery orange fruit bundles standing out among green foliage, and decided that was wear she needed to be. The sea gently lapped at the smooth rocks and silt. The area was secluded, the coast on the opposite side of the bay devoid of others. The only company she had was a flock of gulls resting on an outcrop of rocks.

She set her trapped offering on the ground beneath the rowan and pulled her axe from her belt. A fallen branch stretched beneath the rowan and made for a suitable bench to sit and polish her axe head. She had not heard the falcon following her that morning, so she would wait until it found her before she gave it the rat. If she left it out in the open too long, it was liable to be stolen by another animal. In the meantime, she would clean her blade and concentrate on the questions she had, the vision she desired to fully see, and the god she wished to communicate with.

She hummed to herself as she waited to drown out the rat's urgent chattering and scratching. By the time her blade gleamed in the bright sun, she heard the sheer cry of the falcon and hurried to make her offering while it was nearby.

She grabbed the box and climbed down the slick and mossy rocks to a flat boulder that sat a little ways from the rowan. She steadied herself on the slippery surface and lowered to her knees. Closing her eyes, she sat for a moment and took a deep breath to quell the nervous energy that roiled in her stomach. She hoped this would work, prayed for it. She wished there was another god there to guide her, one more trustworthy, but if all she had was a trickster to rely on, then she would take advantage of whatever aid he could give her. There had to be a purpose for his presence, even if she feared his motives.

When she felt ready, she opened her eyes and saw the falcon swoop over the bay to land in a tree on the opposite shore. It stared at her as though it anticipated what she would do and she knew there was no more delaying her offer.

With one more deep breath, she lifted the lid on the box and snatched the rat by the tail before it could get away. She had to shut her eyes and swallow thickly as it squirmed in her grip. When she set it on the stone, its nails scraped over the rock and she forced herself to ignore the noise as she took her axe head to its neck. It was over in an instant as she was unwilling to extend the animal's suffering. She didn't realize she had been holding her breath until it all left her in a rush as soon as the rat fell still.

Crimson stained her axe and flowed along a crevice on the rock to drip into the sea. She took another breath and searched for the falcon in the trees.

"Loki," she whispered, "this is for you. Please hear my call. Please bring answers to my questions."

The falcon did not answer, but she refused to let its silence bother her and stood to return to the fallen branch and rowan. A screech caught her by surprise as she climbed back up the rocks. She turned around just in time to watch the falcon snatch the offering from the rock and vanish into the trees toward the north. She sighed in relief and hoped that would be enough to satisfy the trickster this time.

Nami settled on the branch and took out her rune stones. She would practice her readings while she waited. Perhaps an answer would come through the amber stones. She used the empty box as an altar, placing it on the ground before her, and set to work. Enel had told her to ask the stones questions and toss a handful of them out to see how they answered. The messages were never clear and took practice deciphering, so she focused on mundane questions at first.

She asked if the weather would remain fair for Enel's trip. She felt that it would and when she tossed five stones from the pouch, she was given runes that could be read as sunshine, an easy journey, and good harvest, but there were two that confused her. Nauthiz spoke of delay, conflict. At first glance, she assumed Enel's return trip would be slowed, but then she noticed thurisaz beside the other rune, and that told her there was a greater conflict to come with his journey. The rune's connection to both Thor and Loki left her to wonder, though. It could be pointing toward an event related to her purpose in Oslo, but she could not be sure.

Refusing to get frustrated with the cryptic answer, she moved on to another question – how did Drafn fair in her absence? Her answer was as disappointing as she expected. Isa spoke of frustration and grievances, a standstill. Nauthiz and thurisaz again told of delay and conflict. But she felt reassured when she saw algiz, the elk, which signaled protection and brought warmth to her heart. The people she left behind were sheltered, and hopefully it meant the valkyries watched over them for her.

She asked how Kid fared and began to toss the stones out when the falcon screamed above her, its shrill cry startling her. Two stones fell from her pouch, but before she could glimpse at the rune carvings, something bounced off her head and landed in her lap. At the sight of the ripe orange, Nami glanced up to the falcon perched on a branch of the rowan. It caught her gaze and leaned forward with a loud squawk, then fluttered its wings in a strange dance she had never witnessed a falcon perform.

Her best guess was that it wanted her to eat the fruit it brought for her.

She had wanted a bite of an orange after she saw the villager's basket of fruit earlier. With a grateful smile, she turned back to her runes as she peeled the rind from the pulp of the fruit. It was gouged out where the falcon dug its claws in, but the meat inside was whole and smelled sweeter than the rind shavings in her bath. She moaned at the rich flavor of the first bite and nearly shut her eyes to savor it. But, she forced herself to concentrate on her task and tried to decipher the new runes while she ate.

The only two runes given were isa and nauthiz. She had heard chains in her dreams and a wolf's frustrated snarls, so the runes confirmed what she already suspected. She almost thought to ask what would come when Kid was free to act, but she could imagine the path of destruction he would leave in his wake without the runes. She was curious to know how Kid was bound because, no matter how much faith she had in Killer's ability to control his cousin, she doubted it would be enough once Kid learned she was gone. There had to be another force at play in the grand scheme of things, something far more powerful than Kid's stubborn will.

The vagueness of her answers was unhelpful. She needed more guidance than the runes alone would provide. With the falcon perched in the rowan tree above her, she hoped that meant she would find better answers if she delved into the seidr that had been coming more naturally to her since she fled from Arlong.

If she could communicate with a god from another realm, one who had more knowledge and insight of the fate she navigated, then she should find a better answer, or at least a clue to one.

She finished her orange and made herself comfortable on the fallen branch. She left the two rune stones on her makeshift altar to concentrate on their meaning and the question she had asked them, and then stared out over the bay. She listened to the world around her, to the water that gently lapped at the coast, to the flutter of the falcon's wings as it groomed, to the soft snap of a twig off in the distance. The prickle at the back of her neck returned, but she felt no danger around her, so she brushed the sensation off. The falcon watched over her from above, and perhaps Conis was nearby to see that she was all right.

She felt safe, an odd feeling to have when she was a hostage in that place.

It was in the span of one breath that the world bled away. The forest around her creaked and groaned, the branch she sat on shifted and grew and joined to an ancient tree as the ground under her feet fell away. The sea became a distant speck, the sky vanished behind a canopy of evergreen. Mist surrounded her, then she felt the first drops of light rain that fell upon Yggdrasil's branches.

Amid the creaks of the growing tree, Nami heard the rattle of chains and the wolfish snarls that haunted her dreams. She searched the branches for a sign of the vision she could not see, but found them empty even as the noise echoed around her, as though it were everywhere. With a disappointed sigh, she looked down at where the rune stones had been sitting. The box and stones were gone, only twisted and gnarled branches greeted her, but she swore she saw a glint of amber far below.

She squinted and strained to see if the stones were on a branch beneath her. The orange-brown hue flickered and vanished and then returned in a different place. She followed the movement, focused on it until the branches beneath her shifted and the boughs opened.

She gasped at what was revealed to her. His rust-brown eyes resembled blood-soaked amber, glowing with his fury. His red-brown coat was matted with blood, his limbs withered and frail, but he continued to struggle against the chains that bound him to the base of the tree. The chains wrapped around his legs and neck, dug into his flesh. She watched him bite at the chains wrapped around the tree's trunk, taking them into his maw to tug. She could see where the tree was gouged from his efforts, and she could see where his body was sliced as the chains only grew tighter. Bloody spittle ran from his mouth, slickened the chains he pulled at. His claws dug into the roots as he slipped. The chain snapped from his teeth and he gave a loud yelp as he slipped on bloodstained roots and fell. Fresh chains appeared to bind him anew, and the wolf whined and growled as he kicked and fought against the fetters.

"He has gone too far. I actually pity the poor mutt," a voice sighed above her.

Nami jumped at the voice and slipped from her perch. She screamed as she began to fall and prayed that she would snap from the vision before she hit the ground. But before she fell too far, something snagged the back of her dress and brought her descent to an abrupt halt. She let out a sigh of relief while her stomach flipped and swirled with anxiety at the long fall she was saved from.

"I've been in the branch above you this whole time," the voice grumbled as she felt herself slowly pulled up. "You shouldn't be so surprised."

She was unceremoniously dropped onto her branch and stared in surprise at the figure that stood before her. A man towered over her wearing a cloak of falcon feathers. Her jaw dropped as her gaze trailed up to his face, taking in his slender frame. Silky black hair fell to his shoulders and framed a handsome jaw. A well-groomed beard hung from his chin, decorated with braids and red beads, and surrounded a wry grin. His skin was a shade of brown nearly as dark as the tree's bark. His garb was loose and fine, made of southern silks in a style foreign to her lands.

His smile grew as he folded an arm over his stomach, gathered his cloak in his other hand, and gave her a deep, sweeping bow filled with mockery. "Your ever-benevolent Loki at your rescue," he greeted with a low chuckle. "Charmed, I'm sure."

She had not expected him to appear as he had and not in the form of a foreigner. Too stunned to find any words, she continued to gape at him as he lowered himself to sit on the branch and recline against the trunk. He didn't seem bothered by her speechlessness, patiently made himself comfortable and pulled out an orange.

"These are quite delicious," he said with a flippant air while she blinked from her stupor. He peeled away the rind and plucked out a sliver of the fruit to pop in his mouth. "Sweet but tart. It would go splendidly with ale. Ah! Next time you have need of me, just steal a few of these and leave them with a flagon of ale. No need to kill another rat. The bird is being well-fed by that fool trying to catch it. I believe I heard him mention something about a hare for his next trap. I do love a succulent, roasted rabbit… It'd be even better with the ale. Do you hear me, woman? I want ale next. And another of these fruits." He waved the orange in front of him. "And some sweet jam to go with that rabbit."

Nami shook off the last of her surprise to glare at the trickster. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," she remarked.

Loki grinned. "I have been given free rein to traipse around Midgard at my leisure and watch you muddle your way through this trial. This is almost as entertaining as the time we dressed Thor up in bridal garb. Put your wolf in a dress and flower crown and I might never want to return to Asgard." He glanced down through the boughs and his amusement waned. "Ah, but first we need free him from those bonds."

"You said _he_ went too far," Nami prompted at the reminder of her purpose there. "Who bound Kid in those chains?"

Loki sneered as he continued to watch the wolf. "Pull the answer from your runes. It should be simple enough to figure out on your own."

She searched for her bag of amber stones and found it hanging from a smaller branch that grew from the one she sat on. She snatched the bag from the precarious spot and reached inside to pull out a rune as Loki advised. She opened her hand to find the jera rune and cocked her head to the side as she thought about who might be associated with it. She knew it must be a god, no mortal could possibly restrain Kid. Jera was a symbol of good harvest and connected to one god in particular; one she hadn't expected to be lending her aid.

"Really, I told him this was too much. He knows how I feel about the whole binding thing," Loki bemoaned, slumping back against the tree as he rubbed his wrists. "Even worse that he is a wolf. That is putting salt in a very old wound."

"Freyr is helping you?" she asked, curious of how involved these gods were in her life.

"Of course, he is." Loki shrugged. "We are all heavily invested in this wyrd that has been centuries in the making. We have each taken steps to lay this path before you and correct a mistake."

"A mistake you caused," she accused.

He gasped and placed his hand on his breast, staring at her as if she had wounded him. His affronted expression vanished when she glared, morphed into a sly smile and casual shrug. "It is not the first bit of mischief I've gotten into and it is far from the last."

"This mischief ended a man's life."

He shrugged again. "Not the first man to die. He was mortal. No matter what magic Freyja had gifted him with, he was fated to lose his life if he fought that giant. He gave it to Freyja as a sacrifice. It was a blood oath and that is a contract impossible to break. Even if he had survived his wounds, that oath would have bound him to her hall and forfeited what little life he had left. If he did not want to die, he could have forgotten Hnoss and gone about his life in Midgard. He could have married another woman and had the children he should have had and carried on becoming a king like the others in his line."

"And leave Hnoss to the giant's mercy?" she huffed.

"I would have brought her back," he said as though it were obvious. "If the chieftain had done nothing, _as Freyja advised_ , I would have fetched the little sprite for her mother. If I did not, Thor was already polishing his hammer to take to my skull and I quite like my head the way it is." He lifted his nose with an arrogant snort. "It all worked out. Freyja was satisfied with a long winded-lecture. Her shrieking left me deaf in one ear for a decade. It still rings in bad weather, too."

"Oh, I'm sure you've suffered _immensely_ ," she bit out. "Are you here as part of your reparations for wronging Freyja."

"Mmm, yes and no," he answered with an obnoxiously knowing smile. "She does have a knack for holding things over my head, and if guilt does not move me, well, Thor is always happy to use that hammer I got him. That never fails to move me… _Away_ from him." He rolled his eyes and heaved a grudging sigh. "No, it is a favor to Hnoss. She said there are things only I can do. She is also the one who dispatched her uncle to meddle with the wolf, an errand he has taken a keen interest in. She is taking great care to see this end properly."

"Only you two are helping her?"

"Hardly," he snorted. "That deluded king was not wrong when he said many and more gods are at play in your very existence, as well as the existence of your wolf. We have all played our part. Freyr and I have personally invested ourselves in this matter, but the others are watching and moving when needed. Rán broke that seal, she and Aegir swept you to Noreg. Eir led you to Eustass. Njord was watching over your voyage to England and back. Thor warned you of this course, and I shoved you toward it. Sif watches over you for her husband now. Freyr has been taking especial care of Eustass since he began courting you, but he also sowed a few seeds decades ago to ensure he was bound at this juncture. I have had my eye on you since before you were born, doing what I must to give you all that you needed." He smiled as he stroked his beard. "And that is not even getting into the menagerie of gods and creatures that helped your respective family trees grow."

Her curiosity was piqued. Her life in comparison to the gods was a speck of dust, yet they had put in centuries of effort to get her to this point, a single moment in time that would pass them as though it were a blink of the eye. She could not fathom why, could not comprehend what purpose it served them.

"Why?" she asked, the only question that came to mind that encompassed all the questions she had.

Loki's head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Why would the gods do all this? Why go through so much effort?" she elaborated.

Loki shrugged. "It's hardly any effort at all. If anything, it's an amusing lark." He raised a hand to silence her before she could snap at his flippancy. "Do not misunderstand, the energy we have put in to this is little more than tugging a string this way or that, guiding people to be at the right place, at the right time. For the rest of it, we are merely observing to see how it all unfolds because even we do not know for certain what will come because Hnoss has not seen fit to share all the details with those of us unable to see as she does." He leaned forward with a warm glimmer in his eye. "And as the centuries passed, I became very attached to this plot, and not because I find it all in good fun. Freyr is not the only one who has _sown seeds_ , to put it mildly," he whispered

Nami's eyes widened at the suggestion. "You've…"

Loki straightened with a grin. " _I have_. Are you curious of the story? I have been eager to tell it." He gestured at his garb. "Why do you think I've appeared to you in the manner of a foreign lord? Your tales, do they not often describe me as having fiery hair." He swept a hand through his hair and she stared in wonder as the black melted away, transformed into locks as warm and bright as her own. They curled and flowed like soft flames, harkening to the oldest stories of the hearth god, the chaotic fire born from Laufey. "Are you not curious of my guise and the tale behind it?" he asked as his fiery hair faded back to black.

"Is it important that I know?" she asked while an odd excitement welled inside her. _His hair is like mine_ , she thought to herself.

"Perhaps not now, but it is a story you will have need of hearing in the future. Assuming we succeed in this trial. I will not tell all of it, only a snippet. The most crucial element," he said, and all she could do was nod, eager to hear a tale she knew was about her. It had to be.

He did not mask how elated he was at her nod. Loki jumped to his feet to balance upon the branch and she knew he was prepared to put on a grand show.

"I shall regale you with a beautiful, yet ultimately tragic, love story," he proclaimed, sweeping his arms out in a grand gesture. She couldn't help but giggle at his boisterous display. The sound drew his whole attention to her as he grinned wide. "I haven't even begun and I've already got a laugh from you. If only Skadi had your good humor. It might have spared me from tying that goat to my nut-sack." He waved the remark off. "Now, don't distract me again, or we'll never get through this tale," he warned.

"Once upon a time, long, long ago… Or, rather, eighty years… thereabouts…" Loki trailed off, furrowing his brows in thought for a moment before he brushed the detail away and continued. "There was a noble family of Catalonia who had struggled for a male heir for years and years and years. Finally, after nine daughters, their God finally blessed them with the son they had desired. They rejoiced and celebrated, for surely their tenth child was a gift from the heavens."

Loki gestured wildly as he spoke, his tone filled with energy and exaggerated inflection. It amused her and conjured images of this unfamiliar family from a land she had only ever dreamed of seeing.

"The years passed. Their son grew tall and strong and handsome. He was devout and loyal and a mighty knight in battle against their Muslim invaders. The Frankish king had bestowed him with honors, promised him a wife from his family, but first he must sail across the Mediterranean to war with the Muslims that had taken Sicily. But alas" - Loki pressed his hand to his head and feigned distress - "a storm ravaged the sea and the army was feared lost. The Catalonian family wept when they heard the news, but even as they mourned, they prayed and prayed and prayed that their Lord in heaven would return their beloved child to them.

"Years passed. There were reports of wreckage found on the Northern coast of Africa, but the family refused to think it was his. It was too far south. No storm could blow him that far off course." Loki leaned down and cupped his hand around his mouth to whisper, "Rán did not hold back when I told her the ship was laden with gold." He pressed a finger to his lips to signal that was a secret and drew away with a wink as she snickered. "She washed away two islands. Never to be seen of again," he added. "Most tragic."

He returned to his tale with another wave of his arms. "But miracle of miracles, the prodigal son returns after five years away. Taller." Loki straightened himself to his full height and tilted his head back. "Stronger." He thumped a fist to his puffed chest. "And, some of the ladies would say handsomer." He gave her a lopsided grin as he stroked his jaw. "Though, his devotion to the Lord was… less than it was, truly – non-existent. And his loyalty…" Loki shrugged. "Questionable, at best." Nami pursed her lips to stifle a laugh. "But he had returned, and that was all that mattered. They would not question why his eyes seemed darker, his hair thicker, and his jaw more defined. Nor would they wonder where that adorable dimple in his chin came from. He was their one and only son. They do not question their son."

Loki sighed. "Honestly, they were fools. Anyone with a shred of sense could see that it was not their son. I made it plainly obvious. I could have walked around with a pale, gaunt face, green eyes, and blond hair, and they would have believed me if I continued to claim I was there son. One night I gave myself a pair of breasts, just for laughs and to see if they would ask. Not a single brow was raised. And they were very buxom. Hard to miss." He gestured at her own chest. "Would have put yours to shame."

Another flurry of his hands ended his tangent. "I digress… Their son lingered about their lands for a time, but with every passing day, he grew restless and stared off to the north. Finally, he went to his parents and declared that he needed to leave. He needed to see more of the world. Something was out there, waiting for him to snatch it up. Glory, riches, women… perhaps a man. That got their attention. Mother fainted and decided she had dreamed the last part, father decided that he meant a slave or some such servant boy. But, it was decided that he would make a pilgrimage to the holy city and be properly anointed by the Pope, himself. It might renew that lost piety their son had.

"But, as soon as I set out with a mighty stead and satchel of gold, not all knowingly given, I thumbed my nose at their God and turned north. I journeyed for weeks, over all manner of hill and mountain and marsh. I grew cold and achy and hungry and stumbled upon a vassal's modest home somewhere outside of Paris three months in. I fell from my horse outside their door, moaning as fever took me." As he mimicked his distress, she watched his skin turn ashen and sickly, his eyes and cheeks hollowed, his lips cracked and dried. The once strong god appeared weak, as though on death's doorstep. She knew it for the trick it was. She had feigned illness more times than she could count in life, often to get out of a chore or avoid Arlong's notice, twice to be welcomed into a home on previous attempts to flee Tingstad. Loki winked when he saw her knowing smile, and she swore she saw a glint of pride in his eye. "Blackness overcame me. I could only hear the alarmed shouts of the vassal's own servants before I was enveloped in tender, but remarkably strong arms. I slept for days. And when I awoke, lo! What did I see, but a beautiful angel at my bedside, praying for my health and recovery."

Loki crouched down in front of her, his smile wry and amused. "Now this woman, she was the hearty sort. Put my attempt at a bosom to shame, I dare say. Had the hips of a giantess. Could have birthed a hoard of dragons for me. Angrboda would have envied her if they had met. I know I did. She had no easy time birthing Fenrir and Jormungand, and I swear Sleipnir made me never want to experience childbirth again. This woman would not have suffered so, I was sure. And she was a sweet little thing, as kind and loyal as my Sigyn, but strong. She would have fought a bear if I asked it of her and likely won. Utterly terrifying woman on her worst days. But I was besotted." He placed his hand over his heart and sighed. "I wasted no time seducing her. Turned into a horrendous scandal that nearly got the both of us hanged. Fortunately, she was with child, and the church would not take the life of an innocent babe, so I paid off her father - who just so happened to be brother to the Norman Duke – and married the lass to make everyone happy. They gave us a quaint little fiefdom, far away from the duchy so we would not cause any more of a stir, and we set off to begin our happy family life.

"My new wife was well into her pregnancy while we traveled, due at any time. We tried to hurry to our home, but our carriage struck a hole and broke a wheel. I found a cheese merchant traveling nearby, heading in the same direction, and got my wife into the back while her servant was left to fuss with the broken carriage.

"We were nearly home when she let out a mighty roar. The merchant thought her to be a dragon, but she was just giving birth to what I assumed would be another monster with how much she writhed and screamed. I pitied the poor girl. Seemed childbirth was painful no matter how well built a woman was. Luckily, among the crates of cheese were barrels of wine, so I paid the merchant to open a cask and had the woman drink deep to hopefully ease her pains. It didn't help much. She still grabbed me by the neck and nearly throttled the life out of me while she cursed me for putting that demon inside her." He laughed. "She truly was a wonderful woman.

"After hours of agony, our son came into the world and my wife's foul mood was gone as though it never was. She glowed with motherhood as she held this giant, squirming babe to her breast, cooing in delight at his fat cheeks. He was as hearty as his mother and I had no doubt he would have a giant's stature. He had a cute little dimple in his chin, just like his old man. And, it was the queerest thing, but the boy's hair was not the black of my guise, nor the tawny brown of my mortal wife's… It was the color of amber, of fire just a touch duller than mine own. My wife did not question it, too besotted with the boy eagerly suckling her.

"She looked at me with this radiant smile, filled with love and affection. She had just birthed a giant's babe in the back of a merchant's cart, surrounded by barrels of wine and cheese, but she was as happy as she would be in a bed of down and silk.

"She promised to birth me nine more sons, as healthy and hearty as our first. I was touched." He sighed. "She would have given me ten sons without any trouble, but, alas, it was not meant to be. She had just begun to ween the little monster from her teat when her loving husband was called to war against the Slavs. All that was returned to her was a head covered in pitch, so broken it was unrecognizable.

"Rather than mourn, the woman grew ever more determined. She swore upon her husband's empty grave that she would raise their one and only boy to be as mighty as ten. He would be a hero of lore, a noble knight in service to his duke and king. He would slay every manner of criminal and beast and lift their family to a more noble station than a bastard ever attained." Loki sat down and sank back against the tree with a wane smile. "He did become a hero for a time. Was respected, idolized, near worshiped by some. But, madness touched his mind and he died a drunken, cruel monster incapable of loving his own family."

"But… he was my father?" she asked, sensing that was all to the story Loki would tell.

Loki nodded. "That he was. After your mother died, he clung to life with fervent greed, and managed to survive another six years before he was slayed by a demon crueler than he. The honor he had in life was long gone, he had no claim for a place in Freyja's hall, but he is comfortable in my daughter's realm. She has given him peace in death."

"And he left family behind?"

Loki snorted. "He did. Your giant in Tingstad has told you true. You have kin in Normandy, but they would rather believe you dead. It is better that way."

"Who is left there? If my father had no siblings, it must be another child, or perhaps his mother," she urged.

Loki shook his head. "That is a tale you need not know, at least not yet. The only reason I told you my tale is because you do need to know that there is more to you than the magic of your mothers. You have a keen cunning that I gave to you, a skill to manipulate those around you to get exactly what you want. It is a trait you have need of most here." He pointed down at the wolf still fighting his chains below. "It is a trait he needs you to have if he is going to see victory. You must not rely solely on your seidr, no matter how powerful its potential may be. The mad king will expect it and his magic is far greater than your own. He will beat you a dozen times over in that sort of battle. Rely on your wits. They have been at your disposal since your birth, unhindered by that mark on your shoulder."

He leaned forward with a stern frown. "No matter your displeasure with the tricks I have played, my nature has been of aid to the gods time and again, and not always to fix a mess of my creation. If you wish to incite change, you must never worry about the rules. Make your own rules and force the world to bend to them."

Nami could not argue with his reason. She knew the tales, knew that Loki was not always a thorn in the gods' sides. His worst charges were not to come until the end, and if he was sitting before her, free of his bonds, then that end had not yet come.

"Why are you not bound?" she asked, unable to resist learning about the trickster before her. Few people would ever have this opportunity. She doubted any could attest to coming so close to him, even if he had answered calls in the past and offered his aid to others in Midgard.

Loki glared at her. "We do not exist in the same way that you do. Our timelines are not straight." He gestured up at the tree's canopy, reminding her of the rain that trickled over them, a symbol of the future pulled from the wells of the past. "You go from birth to death to whatever realm you are fated for. We exist in an ether, a time between times, a place between places. Here I am free, but elsewhere I am bound. And elsewhere I am free, while here and now I am bound." He raised his hands and she watched as shackles appeared on his wrists. "I am both and neither and other. All the tales are true and all the tales are false and all the tales are unknown. Ragnarok will set the world ablaze tomorrow and yet Ragnarok set the world ablaze yesterday. As I am sitting here with you now, I am also stealing Brísingamen, and saving a boy from a giant, and partaking in an eating contest against wildfire itself, and tricking dwarves into making treasures for the gods, and stealing Idunn away with her apples, and tricking Hodr into slaying Baldur, and at the same time not having any part in that tale at all. And I am also drunk and hollering insults at the gods, and enduring as they sew my mouth shut, and watching my sons transformed into wolves to tear each other apart, and being bound by their entrails while Sigyn holds a bowl over my head to stop me from being burned, and breaking free to lead the charge of giants out of Muspelheim with Surt to burn the nine realms to ash. I am doing all of these things, and I am doing none. I am all the versions of myself, and yet I am none, save for the me that is sitting here with my grandchild, explaining to her the mysteries of the lore."

She sat in silence when he finished his explanation. She couldn't comprehend how he could be all and none, but she knew what he said was true. She was raised on the stories, knew that they were different in other places, could be twisted and changed at will. They would call upon gods, upon Loki, upon whatever spirit might lend aid, yet so many of the tales would claim them dead or bound.

He laughed. "There is a reason Odin gave his eye to see," he said. "To understand all of this world and the others and time, itself, is no easy feat. You would be best not to think too hard on it, lest you go mad, and I cannot have you losing your wits at this crucial moment."

"All right," she said, shaking away her thoughts. "Then can I ask you about other things?" He cocked his head to the side, urging her to explain. "You said multiple gods and creatures were involved in not only my existence, but Kid's, as well. Is that why Freyr is watching over him? Is he related to Kid?"

Loki's eyes widened in surprise before he fell back, clutching his stomach as he was overcome with raucous laughter. He nearly fell out of the tree, he laughed so hard. She waited until he struggled to hold back his mirth, wiping tears from his eyes as he let out one last snort.

"That… Oh my, I will have to inform Freyr of that question. He will be most wroth. He hardly approves of that man as your suitor and is not keen on having him join the family, but to think he lent seed toward his creation…" Loki cackled again. "He would be insulted, and that is difficult to do. Trust me, I've accused him of fucking his sister, and he just shrugged it off…. Then again, their mother is supposedly their aunt, so an accusation of incest is hardly of a concern to any of the Vanir." He waved blithely. "But no, Freyr is not related in any way to your wolf. I can safely attest that Eustass carries no Vanir blood. You are the one all tribes have lent themselves to. His ancestry comes from the Aesir and the Jotunn and perhaps a dwarf or dark elf, though I am less certain on that."

 _Giants?_ She knew better than to be surprised. Kid was large and intimidating, sometimes more beast than man, but she still had not expected to hear that she had been under the protection of yet another giant. Then again, most of the gods were giant in part or full. Even Enel, boasting of his ancestor Thor, shared the god's jotunn traits.

Loki scratched his beard and hummed in thought. "On his grandfather's side, I believe Thor's son from the giantess Járnsaxa, Magni, took a human maid for a lover and had a child by her. I think that is where the red in his hair originates. Tyr had a lover within his grandfather's family. I believe his cousins take after him more than he does, but he is not without his own sense of justice, I suppose. Ullr, Sif's son by another, is also of relation. He is distantly related to the giants Suttungr and Gunnlod by way of Bragi, this from his mother's mother. Magni and Bragi are the first seed Odin gave to his family, though on his mother's side, and not given intentionally." He furrowed his brows. "I believe I unintentionally left my mark on that family, as well. You have heard the story of the creatures I birthed after eating a witch's heart, yes? Well, I might be wrong, but if I remember correctly, one of those ogres forced himself on a farm girl, centuries ago. I would refrain from sharing that with Eustass, though. I can't imagine him taking kindly to hearing his mother might be part-ogress. Even less if that beast forced his way into the family tree."

"So, you did not have anything to do with his father's side?" Nami asked. "Kid had remarked once that his father was as sly and manipulative as you. I assumed you would be responsible for that."

Loki snorted. "I am not the only manipulative one in Asgard. In fact, I would say I am the most honest liar in that realm." He shook his head. "No, the monster that sired him has nothing to do with me. My brother is to blame for that."

"Odin?" He had said that Magni and Bragi were the first seeds Odin had given, that meant there was more.

"It is not a pleasant tale, but it is the truth. Odin has always been willing to lie and trick and steal for his own ambition, this is something all your stories tell of. He turned himself into a snake and seduced Gunnlod to steal the mead of poetry. He raped Rinda so that Váli would be born to slay Hodr and avenge Baldur. He regularly betrays the warriors he favors and sees that they die in battle when they are the strongest. He breaks oaths by weaving his words carefully, leaving an opening to worm his way out, and if that fails, he uses me to save him. Nothing will stand in his way of attaining the knowledge and power he craves. In Eustass' case, he desired a beast carved from fury, a wolf to fight a wolf, a warrior that would serve in his army with more might than any man possessed before." Loki sighed. "If not for the influence of the other gods on his mother's side, Odin may very well have gotten that mindless, faithful beast he desired, the true embodiment of _Odr_ , of frenzy and madness.

"Eustass' sire was born of Odin's manipulations. His mother had just married and a stranger had come in the middle of their celebrations to give gifts to the couple. He stayed the whole night and got her new husband blind drunk before turning his sights on her. She refused him at first. She needed to consummate her marriage with her husband, not with a stranger. But he would not take no for an answer.

"The stranger helped her carry her husband to bed and there again tried to seduce her. When she refused, he poured mead into a cup of his own making and gave it to her. Within that cup, he had carved runes to conjure lust and passion and madness in whoever drank from it, so when he seduced her again, she did not refuse. _Could not_ refuse.

"He took her while her new husband slept off his mead beside them and got her with his child; the cruel, manipulative, greedy Jarl that sired your wolf in just as dark a manner."

Loki's story filled her with dread. Her heart ached for Kid and she feared that his was already a lost cause. If Odin had gone to such lengths to create him, then he would go to greater lengths to have him for Valhalla.

"Do not fear," Loki whispered, leaning forward with a sympathetic smile. "Odin desires a man who has made a name for himself, that is why he is gambling on this plot, but your family has other plans in mind. Freyr is there to soothe the beast and temper his rage, grooming him for his purpose in your life, the exact opposite of what Odin desires. Meanwhile, Freyja is biding her time before she must make her choice."

"Her choice?" Nami asked, uncertain if she should let herself hope.

Loki nodded. "Odin will dispatch his valkyries to see that Eustass falls when he needs him to, but that is where Freyja has her advantage. She is the queen of the valkyries and has first pick. She can save Eustass from Valhol."

But she would not be able to save his life. It was impossible to bring a dead man back to life, impossible to free him from that fate. He would go to one god or the other when the time came. She knew better than to hope.

"And I have dispatched my own agent to throw their whole scheme into chaos," Loki added, and she jerked her head up to stare at him in surprise. "They have their rules, and I have mine… Meaning I have none, whatsoever, and will do whatever I wish in this game," he laughed.

"Your agent?" She gasped. "Corazon?"

Loki nodded as he chuckled.

"How is he meant to help in this? What is he after, anyway? Why him? How does he even know about me?" she asked, crawling toward Loki to get in his face. "I don't know him, how can I trust him to help me?"

"You need not trust him," Loki assured as he reached out to pat her on the head. "Just trust me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your grandsire?" he offered. She narrowed her eyes and he heaved a deep sigh before patting her on the head once more. "Because I'm fond of you. Truly. Between Freyja's magic, Thor's thunder, and my cunning, you have the power to send the whole world into disarray if you desire it. But you don't, likely Freyr's influence, and that is a noble trait I quite respect."

She could sense no lie from him, only truth, but she remained uncertain. She sank back to sit on her knees and frowned at Loki. "Then, what of Corazon?"

"Hmmm, what of him, indeed?" His tone was filled with mischief, as was his lopsided grin. "I like that man. He reminds me of me… And yet not. He is handsome and has his own charisma, but lacks my particular charm and humor. There is just _something_ about him that sparks my interest… But ah, his motives… They are elusive. I wonder what he is after?"

His laughter told her that he knew Corazon's motives, but refused to share.

"And now I am bored with this conversation and you need to leave," he said, waving her off.

She gaped at his abrupt dismissal. "Wait! I called for you to help me. What am I supposed to do about him?" she asked, pointing down at the chained wolf.

"You're smart. You will figure something out." He shrugged. "If you wish to chat more, just remember the ale and oranges… And jam. Oh, or maybe wine instead of ale. Thinking of those barrels of wine has made me thirst for it again. Raid your king's stores and fetch me wine."

"But…"

"Oh, you're out of time," he interrupted. "We'll talk later."

He did not wait for her to respond and unceremoniously shoved her off the branch with his foot. She screamed as she tumbled through Yggdrasil's branches and woke in her mortal form with a jolt.

She was greeted by a pair of golden eyes shining with mirth a hair's breadth from her own. It took a moment before she recognized them as Corazon's and shrieked in surprise. Her balance lost, she fell off the branch she had been sitting on from the start and crashed to the ground.

Corazon sat on his haunches in front of her, chuckling as she scrambled to push herself up on her hands. She growled at his crooked smirk.

"What do you think you're doing?" she shrieked at him.

"I was trying to understand where your mind went," he explained with a quiet snort. "Your eyes were open but did not seem to be seeing what was in front of you. I was curious."

"Did you have to sit that close? You startled me," she yelled.

"I called to you, but you did not answer. I have been sitting here watching you for a while. Do not blame me for your lack of awareness, just be fortunate I'm not a murderer." He sighed when she scowled at him. "All right, be fortunate that I have no interest in murdering _you_."

Nami rolled her eyes. "I am blessed to have that honor," she remarked sarcastically, prompting Corazon to grin. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"Pagaya invited me to supper. I was passing by on my way to his house when I spotted you," he explained.

The reminder of supper had her sitting straight as she gave an alarmed shout. "I promised to help prepare the meal," she said and rushed to pull herself up off the ground.

Corazon grunted as he stood and offered his hand. The gesture surprised her and she stared at the hand for a moment, wondered if she should take it. He let out a frustrated sigh before he made the decision for her and snatched her hand in his to haul her off the ground. At his touch, her heart lurched painfully in her chest and she jerked away as soon as she was on her feet, stumbling back a step to put distance between them.

He paid her no mind as she clutched her hand to her chest and fought off the crawling sensation that worked its way down her spine. She willed herself not to tremble, ignored the way her hairs stood on end, and stared at the man who caused the reaction.

It felt as though someone had clutched her heart in their fist when he took her hand. That could not be a good omen. What was Loki thinking to send him as his agent? This man could not be trusted.

"Are these your stones?" Corazon asked as he stared down at her makeshift altar and the amber scattered over it.

She shook away the foreboding sensation and focused on the pouch and loose stones. "They are," she answered and crouched down to gather them up. "I was practicing."

"The king mentioned you share his gifts. Were you seeing a vision just now?" he asked.

She hummed in response but refused to say anything on the subject. He did not need to know about her visions. Loki may have sent him to aid her, but he also said that she need not trust him.

Until Corazon gave her reason to believe he meant her no harm, she would remain wary and keep him at arm's length.

With her stones gathered and returned to their pouch, and the empty box tucked under her arm, Nami spun on her heel and headed toward Pagaya's without a word to Corazon. She heard him chuckle as he followed, but ignored him. She did not want to be left alone with him any longer than necessary, not when that laugh sent another shiver down her spine.

Death walked behind her. And, somehow, that was meant to be a comfort.

* * *

Corazon knew Nami would not trust him so easily, but he had hoped that she was more naïve than he expected. She had softened to him that first night in Oslo while they ate dinner together, but after over a week without speaking, the harshness and suspicion returned. Even if she did not trust him yet, he still thought she would be polite and civil toward him. Instead, he was given a cold shoulder.

Whatever attitude she gave him, he would find a way to work with her.

He followed her to Pagaya's, observing the stiffness in her gait and the haste in her steps. She was running from him. It would do her no good. He would catch her in the end, even if he had to chase her for a year.

A twig snapped off to his right as they crested the hill to find Pagaya's house. He glanced to the side and caught movement in the trees. Whatever was there vanished into a shadow, hidden by thick foliage. Corazon stared for a moment as his skin prickled with the curious sensation of being watched. He felt a flash of unease when he heard a growl, but brushed it off as an animal prowling for a meal.

"Corazon," Pagaya hollered in greeting, drawing his attention away from the noise in the forest.

He glanced to the house to see the older man wave as he sat beside the cart he had been repairing that day. Nami had disappeared into the house while he was distracted. Corazon decided it would be best to wait to speak with her later. She was skittish of him after whatever vision she had, it was best to let her be. He would ease into the questions he had.

"I have the poultice," Corazon said as he came over. "How is the hand feeling?"

"Stiff, but I will manage," Pagaya answered.

Corazon nodded as he pulled out a small wooden container that fit snugly in his palm and handed it to Pagaya. "Use this morning and night after thoroughly washing the wound. It should be better within a week. You can return what's left when the swelling goes down around the cut."

"Thank you," Pagaya said, smiling. "Conis said supper should be ready soon. Would you like a cup of ale while you wait?"

"Please."

Pagaya had attempted to help his daughter with supper, but the women shooed him out of the house to rest. The cut in his hand would heal better if he did not strain it, something both Nami and Conis were aware of without Corazon saying so. They sat outside together, drinking and talking of mundane things – the weather, the fishing, the harvest – until Conis called them in to eat.

Supper consisted of whitefish soaked in a buttery broth, a block of cheese, vegetable stew, and flatbread – the last all that he would not eat. It was simple fare, nothing like the meals he knew the king served in his hall, but it smelled good and was heartier than the fried fish he would have made for himself that night.

He took the seat beside Nami and swallowed a laugh when her back straightened with obvious discomfort. She tried to hide the tremor in her hands as she reached for the bread, but he noticed the subtle shake. He could not understand why she feared him. He had done her no harm, at least none that she was aware of.

"Why do you not eat with the king tonight?" he asked while serving himself fish. If Nami was so fearful of him, then she would be better served within the fortress. He could come and go as he pleased, unless Enel changed his mind, but she could hide in her rooms, where he was not allowed. She knew that if she visited Pagaya, she would likely have to be in his company. As soon as she heard he would have supper with them, she should have made her way back to the hall to avoid him if she meant to treat him so coldly.

"He left this morning to visit the nearby farmlands. I'm free to eat where I please until he returns," she answered. Nami did not bother to meet his gaze and her tone was harsh. She did not want to speak with him and normally he would not care, but he needed her compliance if he would have his way.

"Won't the other priests miss your company?"

Nami shrugged in response. He knew the priests did not act familiar with each other, and he remembered the tense atmosphere that surrounded Nami and the traitor from Drafn. It seemed that had not improved over the days she had been there.

"Have they treated you well in the hall?" he asked, hoping to tease a conversation from her.

Her gaze remained fixed on her meal as she shrugged once more. She was going to whittle away all of his patience with this silent act. Something was amiss. Even Pagaya and Conis had taken notice and stared between them in confusion. Corazon sighed in frustration.

"What has been said to you?" he asked in a sharp Frankish tongue.

Nami's head snapped up and her attention finally turned to him, her eyes wide. He had taken a wild guess that someone within the hall had tempered whatever sliver of trust she had given him when they spoke. He should have taken better care with his words.

"I have not spoken a word to you since your first night here," he continued with a glare. He took care to speak Frankish with Nami. Even if they were away from the king; he could not trust anyone to be privy to this conversation. Even Pagaya and Conis could not be trusted. "I thought you had moved past your unwarranted mistrust in me, but it seems you have had a change of heart. What have I done to wrong you that deserves your coldness?"

Nami's surprise transformed into simmering anger as she turned in her chair to face him. "How do you know I speak Frankish?" she asked in the foreign tongue. Even if she mistrusted him, she seemed aware enough of the danger she was in to follow his lead. "How did you know I was in Drafn before Nezumi arrived? How did you know who was protecting me? Enel said you knew of me. How? What is your interest in me?"

Corazon sighed. He should have anticipated this. "I had heard stories of you."

"What stories?" she interrupted. "There should be no stories."

"There are more stories than you would know," he assured. "I was unaware of the stories within your lands. These tales of gods and giants hold no importance to me. The only stories I heard were of your relation to a certain man in Normandy, a relation that Nezumi and Arlong seem interested in taking advantage of."

"I know what interest they have in that supposed kinship, but what does that have to do with you?" she asked with a cold glare.

Corazon shrugged. "Little, to be honest," he lied. "Your father's family is one I am not overly familiar with, but I have had dealings with them and when I heard the tales of your father's madness and the bastard girl from Svealand, I was curious." She narrowed her eyes in obvious suspicion. She did not believe a word he said. Shrewd girl, but he pressed on. "They were nothing more than rumors, whispers in others' ears. I confirmed in my questioning of Nezumi that the source of the rumors was a sworn brother of Arlong's, a northman called Jinbei who happens to be a grudging ally to the Frankish empire.

"I wanted to know if these rumors were true, if a dead girl lived, and approached a druid who might have knowledge beyond my reach. I wanted my curiosity assuaged because no matter what I did to ignore it, it continued to nag at me," he explained. "I have no faith in a druid's cleromancy, just as I have no faith in the stories of your gods or any others, so I had hoped that the answers I received would be vague and dismissive and maybe even confirm that you were dead so that I could put it to rest. Instead I was told to come here, that I would meet you for myself, and that it was a task I must undertake with great care for a trickster had set me upon it.

"In short, my only interest is to learn that you exist, are in fact a lost daughter of Normandy, and go about my merry away once that curiosity is sated," he reassured while she searched his gaze for a sign of his lies. "And while I am here, I am to serve some purpose to you."

"If you have no faith, why are you so willing to believe a trickster set you on this path?" she asked. "How do you know that falcon watches over me?"

If she asked any more questions, she would no doubt begin to pull apart his lies to find the truth. She would catch him in a web of deceit somewhere. He would have to take care to put her suspicions abed.

"Because I am aware that there are things in this world even I do not understand," he explained. "It is convoluted, yes, but every step that led me closer to you, brought more clarity and order, and that has, in turn, given me a sense of purpose. I am needed here, and I cannot ignore that."

"And what of Kid? How did you know of him?"

Corazon snorted. "The druid made certain to warn me of a great, ravenous wolf protecting you. I understand Eustass' sigil is a wolf. A very simple connection to make once I learned more of the people ruling in these territories."

"And the Frankish language?"

That was the simplest question to answer, one that did not require a lie. "When Nezumi and those giants explained their interest in your kin in Normandy, I felt it safe to assume you were groomed for their purpose in Frankish lands. I assume you know more than Frankish, that you know the common French tongue, perhaps even the Norman dialect." She nodded. "This language is far from my strongest, but it is one we have in common, one that the king does not share. It was a blessing to find a language to whisper secrets in without fear of being understood."

Tension leaked from Nami's posture as she frowned in thought. She was questioning her own suspicions, all the thoughts of mistrust Enel had planted in her mind, but her gaze remained distant and uncertain. She was not simple, she would not believe him so easily. He would just have to keep her mind from overthinking those questions. She needed to be focused on the bigger picture.

"I was prepared to toss my curiosity aside if you failed to be the woman I sought," he whispered, leaning in closer to her. "I went with Ohm to spy upon your village before the attack." Nami's eyes widened at the admission. "The moment I saw your bright amber hair, I knew the rumors to be true and could not turn away." That much was true, though he would not let her know that the first glimpse of her had come in England. He would hide that lie of omission behind a truth, one she would find no contrary to since all the others within Enel's hall believed that to be the first time he saw her, as well. "And I also learned something far more important than who you are," he added with a crooked smirk. "I saw you with your wolf as he left. I believe it is safe to assume Eustass will not let you go so easily. He will bring war to this village."

"And that concerns you, because…?" she prompted.

He had her distracted with the reminder of the wolf. He was at the forefront of her mind, he could see her worries in the quiver of her eyes. She knew Eustass would come for her and that he would destroy everything in his path to have her back.

"Because I mean to be on the victorious side," he answered. "And I am certain that victory hinges on _you_. As to who you mean to aid and favor, I can only guess, but that does not matter to me. I offer you my allegiance. My _true_ allegiance."

"Why would you believe my side to be the victorious one? It only took one day in this village for me to know that Enel was stronger than he appeared, that he would not be defeated easily. Surely you are aware that anyone who might position themselves against him will fail. If you put yourself behind me, then you are risking your own life at what is a gamble, at best. Your own victory will not be certain, so why believe otherwise?" She was full of questions. As irritating as it was to spend this time convincing her to go his way, he had to respect her guarded nature. That sort of thoughtfulness and intelligence would keep her alive. She was not reckless or impetuous, she would not behave like an idiot. He could depend on a woman who remained wary, he could predict her movements and decisions. The more he knew of her, the easier it would be to move her as he needed.

"With so many people seeking you out," he began to explain, "I believe that means you are the most valuable piece on the board. Whoever supports you will have a greater advantage over all others." He leaned forward to hold her gaze as he grinned. "And does this mean you intend to position yourself _against_ the king? Do you mean to topple his empire before it's even been born?"

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips as she realized what she inadvertently admitted. She turned away with such haste, her hair whipped across his face, forcing him to sit back and watch a strained smile tug up her lips as she acknowledged the two others in the room. Conis and Pagaya ate with wary gazes on them, confusion swirling in their eyes.

"Conis, I have been thinking, I would like to visit Enel's oak trees tomorrow," she said, blatantly dropping their conversation. "I want to gather some acorns."

"Oh… certainly…" her handmaid responded, though her tone did not seem so certain.

"And I found a small patch of rowans near here that seem very similar to the ones in the courtyard," Nami continued, as though ignorant of Conis' hesitation. "Are they of the same age?"

"Gan Fall planted the rowans in the courtyard," Conis answered with her brows furrowed. "He took the seeds from the rowans on this peninsula. He said it would bring his whole realm prosperity to have Sif given such a grand display in his hall. They are beautiful trees and the Christians thought nothing of the grove when he converted. They assumed it to be decoration."

"Did he plant the trees near the home I'm staying in?" Corazon asked.

Conis nodded. "He did. He loved to watch the trees grow from little buds, into saplings, and into the adults they are now. He had no children of his own, so I believe he put much of that unused energy and love into his groves and farms."

Conversation turned to village gossip and stories of how things were before Enel began his reign. Nami refused to speak to him again, all too eager to talk of the mundane. She appeared cheerful and unbothered, but each time he shifted and deigned to speak up, she stiffened expectantly. Even when he attempted to be polite and held the pitcher of ale to signal he would pour her another cup, she glared at him.

The distance she sought to maintain had grown wearisome for him. She would need a hard shove to make her see him as an ally to trust.

"Lady Nami," he said with mock politeness once conversation lulled. Their plates were empty, but their cups full, and Nami had finally relaxed as she drank deep from her cup. She leaned forward with her elbows planted on the table, propping her cup to her lips in a lazy, casual posture. As soon as he said her name, she shot a glare at him from the corner of her eye. At least she acknowledged him. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you about," he began in Frankish, careful to keep his face stoic and bored. "Who is Nojiko?"

The name had her full attention. She straightened her back and slammed her cup to the table with enough force to crack it. Her wide eyes were filled with a myriad of emotion, not the least of which a trembling fear even he could recognize. As she turned to face him, she curled her hands into fists to hide how they shook. An interesting reaction he had not expected, not when Nezumi claimed her to be so cold toward her sworn sister.

"How do you know that name?" Her voice was breathless, on the verge of panic, but he could tell she tried to retain some sense of composure in her carefully articulated words.

"I told you, I have been questioning Nezumi," he explained. This would be his best chance to see who the real Nami was, and thus far he was not disappointed. "Given proper persuasion, he has been very willing to speak of you and your trials. He specifically told me to ask you of her. He said you abandoned her to Arlong's mercy, that she would be punished for your sins."

Nami's chair scraped against the wood floor as she abruptly stood.

"Lady Nami?" Conis asked, but her lady ignored her as she looked down at him with a cold, harsh glare. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths to give away her panic, but her eyes had turned to ice.

"Take me to him," she commanded.

He glared back at her. "Do not presume to give me orders, _Lady Nami_."

She arched a delicate amber brow. "Do not presume to goad me into action and then do nothing about it," she retorted in a biting tone. He was impressed. Until she smacked him upside the head. " _Take me to him_."

His darkened glare went ignored as Nami stormed toward the door. She turned back once with an expectant stare and waved for him to do as she commanded. He was tempted to give her a rude gesture and tell her to find Nezumi herself, but he really did need her to trust him.

With a grudging sigh, he stood to lead her out of the house. He paused at the door to glower at her. "Has anyone told you that you're a bossy little witch," he muttered.

Nami crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes as she snorted a quiet laugh. " _No_. _Never,"_ she said with obvious sarcasm. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a rude, arrogant little ass?" she mocked.

He couldn't restrain his grin even if he wanted to. " _Never,"_ he lied and turned to step outside.

"I won't be long," Nami called to Conis before she followed him out.

He was fortunate that the handmaid did not attempt to join them, but she appeared too confused by Nami's changed demeanor to question the woman she was in servitude to. He did not need any more witnesses to see whatever happened between Nami and Nezumi, especially if what occurred gave him leverage with Nami. He needed to have an advantage where others did not.

As he led Nami along the path that followed the rocky coast, he ignored the sensation of someone watching that crawled down his spine. He glanced over his shoulder at Nami and noticed her gaze fixated on the trees around them, searching and guarded. He wondered if she sensed what he did.

"Does the king have guards on you?" he asked in Frankish.

"Not that I'm aware of," she said, her voice hushed and wary. "He appears to trust me. At least, he is so confidant in his hold on me that he does not worry about me. If I tried to flee, he would find me."

Corazon hummed in thought. Enel might be confidant, but he would be a fool not to have a guard on her. She may be a willing hostage, but she was still a hostage. If she did not run, there was always a chance that a spy from Drafn could slip in and capture her back while the king was away. Perhaps Enel believed that he would foresee such an attempt.

"What else has Nezumi told you of me?" Nami asked as they neared his temporary home.

"That you are greedy and wretched and not to be trusted," he answered frankly. "He called you a witch only concerned with yourself, that you would sell your own family for your freedom." He glanced back at the sound of her growl and cocked a brow at her. "What do you intend to do to my specimen?"

Nami answered with a tight smile that almost appeared bloodthirsty. "Nothing," she said far too sweetly.

He grunted and dismissed her feigned innocence. He would let her do as she pleased, so long as she left Nezumi alive.

As soon as the house was in view, Nami rushed passed him. He caught a glimpse of her eyes and swore fire licked at her irises. Her expression was a stony scowl, but those eyes were filled with deadly anger.

"Nezumi," she screamed as she slammed the door open. Corazon rushed after her when he heard his captive's chains rattle and a terrified scream. Inside he found Nami in front of Nezumi's cage, one hand gripped a bar, the other had reached through to grab him by the throat and slam him forward. His gag was out, explaining why he heard the scream so clearly. "What has he done to her?" Nami shrieked at the man now at her mercy. "Tell me!"

Nezumi tittered with nervous laughter. "Lady Nami," he croaked. "I would be glad to tell you of your sister." He paused to gasp for a breath around the tight grip on his throat. His face turned red as he struggled to grin. "Just release me so I can breathe, woman."

She released him and flung him back as she stood to growl down at him. Her hands balled into fists and gave away the temper she restrained. Her whole body appeared to vibrate with a leashed energy, tense and trembling. She looked ready to destroy everything around her if she did not get whatever answers she sought.

Nezumi rubbed his throat. Nami hadn't held him for long, but Corazon could see red marks that would surely bruise form on his neck. She might be interested in her sister's condition, but that grip spoke of a darker intent. She was prepared to kill the man in front of her if his answer did not satisfy her.

"Nezumi," she said in an icy tone. "What has he done?"

"It's lovely to see you, too, Lady Nami," Nezumi said with mocking politeness. He was a fool if he did not see the danger of the situation he was in. The woman was not stable. She was looking for any reason to unleash her buried rage. "Arlong sends his regards and hopes you return to him soon. He misses you fiercely."

"Nezumi," she screamed in warning.

He heaved a sigh. "The last I saw her, she was alive, though I cannot presume that she was wholly well. Arlong had her in his hall, playing servant women with some modicum of the freedoms he allowed you two before, but she still swims in shark infested waters because of you."

Nami's hands tightened to mask how they shook. Corazon shifted closer to see the side of her face. Her lips pursed as her stony visage cracked.

"He whipped her to learn where you might be," Nezumi added. Corazon watched as her eyes widened in surprise and she cracked a little more. He swore she had stopped breathing. "And she forgot her place while I was there and Kuroobi struck her for it. She is fortunate that is all he did. Her attitude is begging to have her tongue ripped out. But you would not care about that, would you?" Nami could not hide how violently she shook as Nezumi smiled at her. "Arlong has promised me your hoard when I return you, by the way. You likely care more about that gold than your sister. Even she knows that gold is more important than her life. Her argument against the reward is what got her struck." Nami finally began to breathe again, but they came in short gasps. "Perhaps you and I can strike a deal here. Help me escape this place and return with me. I will let you keep your hoard."

Corazon was surprised to see Nami relax at the suggestion. She appeared to be considering the offer. Did she truly care that much more for her gold? Was her sister's life so meaningless to her?

But then Nezumi laughed again. "I will just ask Arlong for Nojiko as a reward," he commented. "The men I have remaining in Francia could use her to lift morale after losing so many brothers on this fool's errand."

Nami's anger broke free with a scream and she lunged for the cage. Nezumi shrieked in surprise as she reached through the cage bars to scratch at his face. He curled into a ball to protect himself when she tried to grab him by the throat again. When she saw he was safe in his cage, she pulled away and searched the room. She spotted the key beside his bed and ran for it. Corazon caught her by the arm just before she reached it.

"Release me," she screamed at him and fought his grip.

"No," he said flatly as he tugged her away. When she attempted to smack him, he captured her free arm and wrangled her into his arms.

"Let me kill him," she shrieked as she lashed out at his hold.

"No," he repeated.

She kicked his shins, tried to knee him between the legs. He spun her around and trapped her arms against her as he lifted her from the floor. Her legs thrashed as he carried her to the door. She continued to scream for him to release her, pled for him to let her murder his captive. Her struggles weakened once he got her outside. A sob tore from her throat.

"Just let me kill him," she rasped. "I can't let him have her."

"I can't allow him to die here." He set her down but refused to release her until he felt it safe to. "He has his uses."

"What uses?" she spat out with unveiled contempt. "He is a conniving rat."

"I cannot disagree with that, but even a rat has his uses," he said quietly. "He is a weak and pathetic man, scrambling for purchase on a sinking ship. He will die someday, and I am certain it will be a miserable death, but it cannot be here."

Nami slumped forward with a broken sob. "I can't let him have her."

"And he won't have her," he assured, though he doubted she was referring to Nezumi anymore. He was merely the only one she had to lash out at. Her body became heavy as she hung her head, her face hidden behind a veil of amber hair. "He's just trying to get under your skin. He wants a reaction from you. He wants you to feel hopeless and afraid so that you run back to Arlong on your own."

Nami shook her head and shoved at him. He felt no real fight in her, so released her without any further struggle. She turned around while she wiped at her bloodshot eyes. "I know that," she said. Her voice strained for some sort of firmness, but she sounded weak and helpless. She looked anywhere but at him, as though she searched for something, though he could not begin to imagine what. Her face was pale, her eyes frazzled. She appeared lost. "I didn't want to leave her," she explained suddenly, as though she had to explain herself. "I tried to get her on the boat, but she pushed it away. She told me to run and not look back. She…" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "She sacrificed herself for me."

She fell down to sit on her haunches as she buried her face in her hands again. She struggled to find some sense of composure, so he said nothing and waited for her to sort her emotions.

"I'm always running away while everyone else fights for me," she whispered. He didn't think that was meant for him to hear. "She's my sister. She's all I had left. And I left her behind."

Her guilt was thick in her tone, a trace of grief that could not be feigned. He felt a weight press against his chest and glanced at the house, then back down at her.

"Return to your handmaid," he said as he turned toward his home.

He didn't wait for her to respond as he went inside and barred the door shut. He didn't care if she listened to his command or not. She could stay and listen to the screams if that was what she desired.

"So, is she going back to Arlong?" Nezumi asked.

Corazon said nothing as he grabbed the axe he left beside the firewood.

"What are you doing?" Nezumi asked as he snatched the cage's key.

"Something you are not going to enjoy," he answered as he slowly walked toward his captive.

Nezumi blanched. "She… She has fooled you," he spluttered. "She has won you to her side. She will betray you just as she did all those before you."

Corazon chuckled. "You believe me to be fooled, but you are the only fool in this room," he said. "I can assure you that I still have all my faculties, that I have not been seduced by a witch. I have merely been reminded of a time I wish had never been. I know the pain of leaving a sister behind. She is fortunate hers still lives, though I suppose death would free her from whatever ills she suffers now. And I also know the guilt of seeing someone you cherish sacrifice their life for yours." He pointed toward the front door with his axe. "A demon in the guise of an angel, she may be; but demons were once angels that fell from the grace of heaven and the pain of such a fall is not hidden from their own kind."

He opened the cage and Nezumi shrieked as he cowered in the corner. "Trafalgar! Do not do this! You swore that I would leave here alive and unharmed!"

He ignored the man's screams as he snatched him by the chains and dragged him out kicking. "You will leave here alive, but I made no such promise about going unharmed. I said _mostly_ unharmed. Though I suppose that _was_ a lie. You will be quite harmed after this."

Nezumi screamed and fought. He was weak from poor nourishment, his limbs cramped from spending his days in a small cage. It was an annoyance to have him struggle when he had no hope of escape, so Corazon ended the futility with a swift strike to the back of Nezumi's head with the butt of his axe. His captive pitched forward onto his knees and swayed. There was no more fighting the inevitable once Corazon grabbed him by the collar and hauled him toward the dinner table.

He disliked tarnishing the place he ate, but it would make do for the operating table he needed.

"Trafalgar…" Nezumi whined weakly. "Please… I will give you whatever you desire."

He ignored the simpering fool as he tossed him onto the table and swept away the cups and plates that sat in the way. He forced the man to lie back and arranged him to stretch over the length of it.

"Money… Women," he continued to plea as Corazon gathered cloth and strips of leather from a chest beside the bed. "Anything. Name your price and you will have it."

"You are in no position to grant my deepest wishes," Corazon answered as he returned to the table and began to drape the leather over Nezumi's chest. "Even if you were not here, instead free within Francia, you would not be able to bring the dead back to life, nor would you be able to topple the dragon that stole that life away," he muttered. "You have only one use to me and I cannot set you free for that."

Nezumi sobbed as he tied the leather to restrain his chest. His pleas became incoherent while the stench of fresh urine wafted from his tattered trousers. He was terrified, and the blow to the head left him too confused to fight his fear.

Corazon tore the linen of his sleeves away before he undid the shackles at his wrists. He would need to find a new means to bind the man after this, but he would worry about that later.

"What are you going to do to me?" Nezumi asked once Corazon had secured his arms to the table with leather straps and had begun to tie strips of cloth around his upper arms to slow the circulation of blood in them.

Corazon did not answer until he was certain that Nezumi's body was prepared. He picked up his axe and ran his finger over the blade. It was dulled from chopping wood, but it would suffice.

"I advise you to remain very still," he finally said as he grinned and lifted the axe above his head. "Amputation is my specialty. If you do not fight it, it will be over soon."

He brought the blade down in a smooth arc. Blood splattered across his face. Nezumi screamed and wailed and thrashed on the table.

Corazon's grin only grew wider as he watched the hand fall to the floor.

Nezumi lost consciousness before he finished his operation. Corazon cauterized and bandaged the wounds and left him to lay in his own refuse after he gathered his gifts into a sack. His house would reek of the man's bowels for days, but the results were worth that misery.

Nami was not to be found outside his home, so he set off toward Pagaya's. If she was not there, he would search for her at the king's hall, but he did not think she had left the peninsula just yet. She would wait for him.

He found her beneath the rowan she had sat beneath earlier in the afternoon. She stared over the water as she had before, but this time he knew she was seeing all that was in front of her. Her fingers played over her gold bracelet. Her expression was hollow, but he could see the evidence that she had been crying in the blotches of red against an otherwise pale face. If anyone else were to look upon her, they might believe her to be calm, but it was a veneer to hide the pain swirling beneath the surface. Pain he was not meant to see.

"Lady Nami," he called to her.

She slowly took her gaze from the sea and stared at him with empty eyes that seemed to be seeing him for the first time. She likely was. Blood still stained his tunic and vest, and he had not bothered to wipe it from his face and hands. The bag he held dripped with more blood as he held it toward her.

"A gift," he said before tossing it to the ground in front of her.

She looked down at the bag without a flicker of emotion and then turned to slip from the branch she sat on to kneel on the ground. A tremor remained in her hand as she reached for the bag and drew it toward her. When she opened it, she gasped and her eyes widened in the first show of life from her since he arrived.

"It will be impossible for him to lay a hand on your sister when he has none," he said as he carefully approached her. She placed a shaking hand over her lips and he watched as tears brimmed her eyes. "Nor will he be able to conjure much… _morale_ as a eunuch."

Nami took in a harsh, shaky breath.

"Your sister will be safe," he promised quietly.

Her eyes snapped up to him and seemed to search his face. He did not worry over what she might see, what she might recognize. The druid said she would see him for who he was and he would not hide that from her any longer. He was mistaken to believe she needed a kind face, a caring man to sway her from this place.

She needed a monster to do what she could not.

"I will not sacrifice myself for you. You have enough people willing to do that, you do not need another. But I promise not to treat you unkindly. My name is Trafalgar Law," he said as he held out a hand. "You may call me that. And you may call on me…." He paused when he saw her wariness return, her gaze fixed on the hand he offered. "You may call on me as your brother, and I will aid you in this trial you face."

Her eyes widened at the oath he made. It was an oath made between men, between equals. It was an oath made between two cunning trickster gods; one of whom had led him there and watched over her from the trees at that very moment. He could hear the falcon's wings flutter above them, the bird chattered some sort of input.

Law waited until she made the decision on her own. The calm façade had returned when she slipped her cold hand into his. Her emotions locked away as he helped her stand.

"I thank you for the gifts," she said in hushed formality, bowing her head as she squeezed his hand.

She released him and bent down to gather the blood-soaked bag. He watched curiously as she turned toward the rocky beach and balanced on a slick boulder. She took a deep breath, pulled her arm back, and threw the gift out over the bay to land in the water with an echoing splash. He held back his chuckle when he saw her shoulders heave with a sigh. She appeared more relaxed as she walked back toward him, though he doubted that was enough to take the full weight off her shoulders.

She at least appeared more confidant, a sense of determination in her that had not been there before. She had remembered whatever resolve had brought her here in the first place.

Nami brushed by him, heading up the hill toward Pagaya's. She paused to glance at him over her shoulder. "Please, don't be a stranger," she said as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips and a cunning glint lit her eyes. "I would love to have your company in the hall… _Corazon._ "

He snorted at the use of the borrowed name and silently appreciated her forethought on that. She realized he had used a false name for a reason and would not betray his identity if he did not desire anyone else to know it. He would remain _Corazon_ to the king and his men, but he would be himself with her.

He folded his arm over his stomach and gave her a mocking bow. "As you wish, _Lady Nami_ ," he said with unveiled sarcasm. When he looked up at her again, her smile had grown and she turned away with a short laugh.

Law watched her walk away as a sense of victory welled within him. He had her trust, though he knew it would not be easy to maintain. She was as prickly about giving it as he was, and he had no doubt he would have to do things that would make her question his sincerity. If his purpose was to do what she could not, be the darkness that could not taint her heart, then he would have to walk that fine line. She would work in the light to distract Enel's attention. He would work in the shadows to subvert Enel's ambition.

A twig snapped within the trees and drew Law's attention from the woman. This time when he searched for the source of the noise, he spotted a flash of lavender and a thick pelt of fur move through the trees, following Nami at a distance.

His first task as her new ally and brother had shown itself. They would need her wolf if they had any hope of toppling a god. He was not yet certain how they would bring the wolf here in a timely manner, with the greatest chance of success, but he had the resources available to devise a plan.

First, he had to hunt a bear.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Long chapter and finally, Law is himself, at least to Nami. It's kind of fun writing them with this sort of friendship, one that's adversarial in some ways. And, like Kid, he gets to go to more extremes with parts of his personality - namely the gleeful dismemberment he is so fond of._

 _Hope you all enjoyed the Loki cameo. He enjoyed making himself the center of attention. And yes, his story is filled with a million hints to who specifically Nami is related to._

 _Loki's red hair is something that is debated since there really is no concrete description of him. He is considered a hearth or fire god in some theories, or at least that is part of his early existence. There are carvings found of him on stone hearths that suggest this. There is also a theory that the names of his parents suggest a connection to a forest fire - namely that his mother, Laufey, was a tree or leaf struck by a bolt of lightning, and from that Loki was born. This story happens to be a favorite of mine because I see fire as a very poetic reflection of Loki's chaotic nature. Fire, when harnessed and controlled, can provide us warmth and light, cook our food, ward off beasts, etc. But if that fire is left to burn on its own, it can burn our homes to the ground and kill any that stand in its path. Additionally, the story of Ragnarok has Loki allying with the fire giants of Muspelheim, led by Surt, not necessarily the giants of Jotunheim that are a source of antagonists and friends in the lore. Some believe Ragnarok and the connection to fire is more a product of the stories warped by Christian influence, particularly where Loki was turned into a devil of sorts, but I still appreciate the idea of him being this fiery giant/ god. And the red hair is of obvious importance in connecting him to Nami... as well as her father's family._

 _Nami really does share a lot of similarities to Loki, as well. She is like this amalgamation of Loki, Freyja, and even Ran._

 _Loki's issues with Kid's binding are related to Fenrir's - his son's - binding, as well as his own. He is bound after he hurls insults at the gods in a drunken fit and casually reminds them that Baldur is dead because of him (there are some stories, by the way, that say Loki had nothing to do with it, that Hodr was jealous of Baldur and desired Baldur's wife, Nanna, for himself). Since he was foreseen to be the cause of Ragnarok, the gods sewed his mouth shut, turned his two sons Narfi and Nari, by way of Sigyn, into wolves and had them fight until they tore each other apart, they then bound him with their entrails and the giantess Skadi hung a snake above Loki's head to burn him. Sigyn held a bowl over him to protect him from the venom, but when the bowl grew full, she had to take it away to pour it out, leaving Loki to suffer the venom until she returned, and create all manner of earthquakes in his agony. Needless to say, binding wolves is not something he is a fan of. Puts his role in Ragnarok into greater perspective._

 _And yes, Odin is honestly an awful god much of the time. His ambitions and drive for power (particularly in the form of knowledge) are what matter most to him. He is not always cruel, but when he desires something, he will not let anything stand in his way. He and Loki are blood brothers (i.e. sworn brothers) and when Odin needs trickery but his oaths bind him, Loki is the one who helps him, and vice versa. When Loki got the gods their gifts, he had promised his head to the dwarves that lost the contest, but Odin helped him from the oath he had sworn by agreeing that Loki had promised them his head and they may only have it if they leave his neck intact. Kind of hard to cut off a head without cutting the neck, so the dwarves were outwitted by both gods and went off vowing to get revenge someday. Really, neither god is trustworthy._

 _Lastly, Nami's barbed spear has a striking resemblance to Arlong's canon nose. I found an image of a barbed spear that look freakishly similar, so it had to be that one._

 _That's it for my rambling note. My mood is beginning to improve, so hopefully you won't have to wait another month for an update. Reviews definitely help motivate me, though._


	29. Chapter 29

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Pieces on the Board_

Kid hissed as she tugged at one of his shackles. The metal grazed the sore flesh and festered wound on his wrist. He was too exhausted to strike her. If he dared to raise a hand to Earl Bonney she would have him back in the cave for another nine days of misery and starvation.

She thought nine was a poetic number for one of Odin's men. The twisting knot of hunger ruined his ability to share in her amusement. He would have wrung her neck again for the glint of mirth in her eyes when she finally bothered to free him, but it had been a struggle to lift his head to glare as his men gathered him up and carried him to the hall.

He spent three nights in the hall, too feverish to sate his hunger with real food. Broth was all he could keep down the first night before he succumbed to fatigue and drifted into his dreams of amber and sunlit fields and heavy chains.

 _What would you give for her?_

That question continued to echo in his mind for days on end. He had already sworn to give her everything he had. His home. His treasure. His very life. What more did he have to give to have her? What did he have that would satisfy the gods? What would get them to cease meddling in their lives and leave them in peace?

Bonney had finally had enough of him by the time his fever broke and was set to pack him off to Drafn. His ship was loaded with meager rations, what little gold he brought taken as payment for the food and the mercy the earl had shown him. She did not even bother to inform him of the eviction. She came into his room late in the morning and began to pack his belongings while she threw fresh clothes at him and ordered him to take a bath so his stench would not make his men sick.

Once he was bathed and her healer replaced the bandages on his wrists and arms, Bonney appeared with new fetters he was less than enthusiastic to see.

"Knowing you as I do," she explained, "you will hijack your own ship and rampage through Svealand to take Arlong's head before you even know what has occurred in Drafn. I am saving your men from the trouble of drowning you to stop you from giving in to idiocy."

She really was fortunate he was too weak to punch her. She may be a friend, but she was not close enough to get away with insulting him so brazenly.

"Fuck you, bitch," he managed to mutter. That response was likely why she fussed with his shackles so urgently. She took a sick amount of pleasure seeing him in pain.

Another tug nearly made him yelp as fire coursed up his arm. "Stop fussing, woman," he growled.

"You nearly shattered your shackles in the cave," Bonney said with one more jerk of a chain. "I'm just ensuring you won't do it on the ship."

Even if he wanted to, he could not dredge up the strength to break the thick iron. He just wanted to go home and see that the dreams were just that – _dreams_. He wanted to see Drafn standing strong with Nami's beautiful smile waiting to greet him. He could already imagine how she would pout and rebuke him when he arrived in fetters. She would give him an earful, but spend the whole night tending to his wounds and easing his exhausted rage.

He would give anything to hear her voice again, even if he had to sit through a lecture. He would give anything to feel her soothing touch and taste her sweet kisses.

His heart knew it was futile to hold to such hope, but he desperately wanted to believe his dreams were wrong.

Bonney jerked at the chain wrapped around his waist and he groaned as it cut into the bruises on his side. The shackles on his wrists were hidden beneath the sleeves of his tunic; the chains led behind his back so that his cloak would cover them, and then connected to the chain at his waist awkwardly secured beneath his leather belt. When he walked, the chains rattled, but the villagers should not suspect much as he passed by. Fur and leather muffled the noise, and the shouts of sailors and traders would further drown it out. It was a ruse to keep his standing among those that did not know of his outburst. He would leave with the same honors of a normal ally, but still in fetters to keep him from lashing out again.

"I advised your men to bind you beneath the ship if you become too unruly for them," Bonney said with snide amusement. "Unfortunately, they assured me that they can handle your temper well enough."

"You sure are enjoying this, aren't you?" he mumbled.

"Immensely." Her grin did not last as she pulled his cloak into place to mask his chains. The serious look she wore eased his annoyance with her as she gave his chest a hard pat. "When you know which direction you must go, send word to me. I'll lend you whatever ships and men you need."

He raised his brow at the unsolicited offer.

"I want to meet this lady you would go to war for," she explained with a wry smile. "Any woman that can tame a beast without binding him is a woman I would like to know. And I cannot stand idle with the knowledge that either the mad king or the cruel giant think they have any claim over any woman. You are bad enough, but at least I can kick your ass whenever I want to."

His withering glare was ignored and he was abruptly shoved out the door of her hall.

"You will also be indebted to me until you die," she added. "As will your lady. It wouldn't be very wise to ignore the potential that can come of that."

"Thought you didn't mean to use her," he growled.

"I have no intention of using her." Bonney rolled her eyes. "It would be a mutually beneficial relationship. She would be free to make her own choices in it." She gave his back another hard push to move him toward the docks. "First, I need to understand what sort of woman she is and how she and I can aid each other. Before I can do that, you need to return home and learn all that transpired while you were tied up here."

He glowered down at her. "You know, I dislike you very much."

Bonney barked a short laugh and smacked his arm. "Aw, aren't you being a sweet little pup," she teased. "I suspect that's the starvation talking, but I dislike you, too."

"Stop mocking me," he growled. "I will strangle you again."

She brushed off the threat and shoved him toward his waiting crew at the docks. "He's all yours, boys," she called. "Don't let me see his face until he has gotten some sense into that thick skull of his."

Kid snarled at the earl. He had plenty of sense. The gnawing pit of anxiety and the inability to act overshadowed it. If she knew even half of how he felt, she might not be so quick to judge his rash actions. If she knew that creeping fear that all he had was lost, she might keep her mouth shut.

He would have lunged at her if Wire hadn't thought to grab his arm and drag him to the ship. His hands might be chained, but he could silence her mockery by driving his _thick skull_ into her face.

"She is an ally, Jarl," Wire whispered as a reminder. "Do not squander her mercy or generosity."

What generosity? What mercy? She left him chained in a cave for over a week with only enough food and water to keep him teetering at the edge of life and death. She may be an ally, but she had made it clear that she had no qualms with turning her sword on him if she felt it warranted.

He knew he deserved punishment for attacking her, but if she intended to pardon the act, she had no reason to leave him bound, no matter what justifications she claimed to have. The gods had already bound him. Her chains were redundant. He could not act, even though he desperately wanted to.

"Let's go," he grumbled as his men helped him onto the ship. He was too tired to care about Bonney or the chains or anything beyond seeing his home. He resigned himself to sit in helpless despondence until they reached Drafn.

Bonney waved their ship off, but Kid turned his head to ignore her as he slumped onto a war chest. Wire took the steering oar. Halle took command at the prow. Even as the men called their orders and set the pace of their oars, the ship seemed to carry the somber weight it would if the men were silent. Perhaps that was merely his mood reflecting on them as he stared out over the channel and land around it, his mind pondering what he would find in Drafn, but he knew they shared in his unease. The dream he had in England had not been wrong, so the dream he had in Hedeby was likely to be as true, only this time he had not left in time to intercept the attack.

Kid dozed off as they sailed through the Kattegat. The gentle roll of the sea beneath the ship and the soft, paced splash of the oars lulled his weary mind. It was for the best that he slept. If he thought too hard about the Svear lands they passed, he might try to shatter his chains again and he was too weak to manage it. Amid the creaks and groans of the ship, his dreams carried him over lazy channels beneath a brilliant sun that warmed his flesh. His chains were as tight as they would be in the dreams of the field and he swore the rock remained against his back, a cold, hard contrast to the radiant sun promising peace his heart never knew. The god's question echoed through his mind on a flutter of wind and a rustle of the sail. It would have been a peaceful dream, a respite from his agony, but the chains were a heavy reminder of the burden on his heart and the answers he failed to find.

He opened his eyes to a bleak, grey world and a windless, cold drizzle. The men grunted and groaned as they churned their oars to steer them toward the fjord. He had slept the whole day they traveled through the straits. They were nearly home and that knowledge filled him with icy dread to match the mist blinding them to what lay ahead.

The world around them was too quiet, too still. Too dead. No birds cawed overhead. No gulls. No crows. No falcons. The trees were silent sentinels that lined the jagged coast. No branches snapped beneath a deer's hoof. No howl of a wolf on a hunt. No growl of a bear guarding its den. Even the sea felt lifeless, morose. Only the splash of their oars echoed off the hills around them – once soothing, now ominous.

Kid stood with a rattle of iron chains and peered ahead at the wall of clouds and mist ahead of their ship. The world was grey around them, but up ahead, it was steeped in black of the likes they only saw in the harshest of winters.

"Halle," he called out. "The horn."

Halle had been staring ahead when he gave the command, as awestruck and uneasy as Kid. He shook from his stupor to pull the horn that hung from his belt. They should be close enough for the village to hear the horn, the world was still enough to have the blast carry far. The men paused in their rowing when Halle let out one long blast and they waited with baited breath for a response.

Panic and dread pounded at his chest when no answer came.

"Keep rowing," he shouted. "Call again, Halle. Wire, undo my shackles."

They all jumped at his commanded. The men put all their strength into their oars to push them through the water. Halle made another long blast on his horn. Wire did not argue as he pulled out the key to his shackles and let the chains fall away.

All the energy he had lacked in Hedeby returned in a rush as he paced the length of the ship. It was the same restless energy he had no outlet for, but at least he did not feel on the verge of collapse any more. He rubbed at his sore wrists and cursed under his breath with every call that went unanswered. He feared the worst, that the village was completely decimated in his absence. It felt an eternity had passed before they finally received a single horn blast in return after six attempts.

Kid rushed to the prow to peer out at the swirling mist. He squinted in the hopes he could see through the clouds and find the village whole and well.

That hope passed when the clouds thinned and the veil was lifted. Half the village was gone. All that remained were piles of black ash where homes once stood. The homes that remained did not go unscathed. He could see that many were charred from a distance, or had walls and doors smashed in. The bridge was gone, its remains washed onto the bank of the islet at the river's mouth. The knarrs and longships that had been secured along the river and fjord were gone, either destroyed or stolen, he could not be certain.

He saw no people milling about as they normally would. Only a lone figure stood upon the remaining dock to greet him. A shadow he only recognized by his stocky frame. As they grew closer, he could see the weary frown Axel wore. His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed in defeat. He had one arm in a sling, the other heavily bandaged. At least he was alive, but the ashen pallor of his skin may as well belong to a dead man.

That face told him it was exactly as he feared – Nami was gone. Enel had come for her and crippled his village beyond anything he could ever imagine. How many survived? Axel could not be waiting here alone. There had to be others. It was the only shred of hope he had left.

As soon as the ship was in reach, Kid leaped over the water to land on the dock. His bruised abdomen protested his haste, but he ignored the ache as he sprinted through the village.

"Killer," he called out. He needed to know if his cousin had survived first. He would worry about the others later. If Killer was alive, then he knew all was not lost. "Killer!"

No one answered as he ran past the empty remains of the homes. He was greeted by dark doorways and the lingering scent of ash and death. There were no bodies. That meant there were enough survivors to see to their burials. Others were alive. Somewhere. He had to find them. But first, his cousin.

It did not take long to run to his hall, yet his lungs ached and his throat burned from his shouts. His fatigue and lingering fever would have seen him trip, but he stubbornly kept to his feet as he aimed for the hall that stood black and solemn over the desolate village. He was not so weak to fall into the ashen mud with his home in sight. He dredged up every ounce of strength he had and pushed forward.

"Killer," he hollered as he cleared the steps onto his hall's porch in one leap. The hall was mercifully left standing, but the doors were broken from their hinges and a corner of the roof appeared to have been licked by flames. Someone had saved it from the fire.

He crashed through the entryway and came to a halt. All the air left his lungs at the misery that lay before him.

A fire crackled in the hearth, a sight that would normally bring relief after a journey away from home. But the men gathered around it did not drink their ale with the same cheer, did not greet him with the same enthusiasm. Their eyes were tired and hollow, their heads hung in shame. All around them were their brothers, laying as still as death in their fur beds.

"Jarl Kid," Heat greeted as he stood from the side of a bed where Stig lay prone save for the ragged breaths that made his chest rise and fall.

Kid ignored Heat as he walked further into the hall, taking in every man that fought against their injuries and clung to life. The healer followed him in silence as he searched the room. He heard the other men enter the hall but ignored them as his sights set on a tiny figure huddled into a ball near the corner beside a bed whose occupant had withered blond hair clinging to a sweat soaked forehead.

Sind hugged his legs to his chest and rocked where he sat. Kid heard him mutter in English. A prayer to the Christian God, the only God he knew how to turn to in his grief and fear.

Kid fell to his knees at Killer's side with a low growl. Sind flinched and drew his knees in closer to his chest. His prayers ceased and he quivered. Kid had no mind to comfort the child, he was too concerned with the bandages on Killer's face and arm and side. Red licked over his skin where the bandages did not fully cover him and Kid saw a glimpse of white, blistered flesh on his cousin's neck. The edges of his hair were singed and black, shorter than they were. Killer had been burned, severely as far as Kid could tell. His breaths came in harsh gasps, his face twisted in pain. Kid placed a hand to his cheek and found his skin burned to the touch.

"He has been combating fever the past two days," Heat explained quietly as he kneeled beside him. "His burns are severe, but I have faith he will recover."

Kid nodded in dumb silence. Killer had to recover. His cousin was the strongest man he knew besides himself. He was a fighter to his core. He would fight this pain and come out stronger. He would be at his side in the next battle. He had to be.

"The others?" Kid croaked.

"We lost half of our warriors… Hróarr died while fleeing the village with Nami."

Kid snarled and balled his hand into a fist as his rage began to build. Heat took a deep breath as Kid willed himself to control his anger. He needed to know all that happened in the battle.

"We had attempted to evacuate the village prior to the attack. Nami had felt it was imminent, so we tried to prevent as much loss of life as we could. Enel's army surrounded us on all sides and intercepted those that fled. We lost just over a third of the villagers. Ingrid died fleeing with Nami and the children. The smith was also slain in battle." Kid glanced up when he heard Sind sob and glowered at the boy. "Ingvild has chosen to remain at your home with Gunda to help me care for her."

"What happened to Gunda?" he forced himself to ask.

"She fought hard and slew many that chased after the cart Nami was in, but two of Enel's priests waited at the bridge. She and Axel rushed to protect her when Hróarr fell. One of the priests cut her across the face with his sword. Axel had an arrow shot into his arm while his other was mangled and dislocated by a dog. Nami hindered the priest from killing them before Geir and I rushed in to aid the battle." Heat pursed his lips and sighed. "She has lost part of her nose to the slash and will have a deep scar across cheek and brow, but the wound has been healing well. She has fallen into melancholy, though, and refuses to return to the hall so that I can care for her with the rest. Geir remains at the house with her to stand guard."

"He is well?" Kid asked. Heat nodded in response as Kid began to search the hall to see what survivors remained.

"Nami saved this village from being massacred," Heat continued. "She…"

"She surrendered herself," Kid interrupted. He knew well enough that Nami would do what she could to protect his people. If their escape was cut off by two priests that slew one of her guards and nearly killed two others, he would expect her to surrender. His dreams told him that she had surrendered. He was not happy about it, but he was not surprised.

"Killer did manage to defeat one of Enel's priests," Heat said. "The king did not come away without his own losses."

Kid grunted at the information. That was one less priest they had to be concerned with. He could not be certain how well Killer would recover before he sent his remaining forces to Oslo to take Nami back. Without Killer to fight, his own forces were crippled, but he felt better knowing that Enel was in a similar position.

"Where is Ove?" he asked when he noticed the mercenary not among the injured in the hall. He could not have fallen in battle. He had seen that man walk through a field strewn with bodies, covered in blood and broken arrow shafts, and laugh off his injuries over a cup of ale that night. While Kid claimed his own berserker status, prided himself as an ulfhednar, a wolf, he was driven solely by fury and still felt his wounds later. Ove was a true bear, the embodiment of the berserker legend. Nothing could take him down.

Kid did not miss Heat hesitate in his answer and turned to glare at the healer. "He did not fall. He would not," he growled. Heat bowed his head. "Where is he?"

"He left," Heat whispered. "He slew another of Enel's priests and volunteered to take his place."

Fire coursed through his veins as his temper snapped. "He what?" he shouted. "He left?"

"Jarl… Calm down," Heat urged. "Let me explain."

"Explain?" he hollered as he jumped to his feet. Killer groaned below, but Kid was too incensed to care for his cousin's comfort. This was the last straw. "What is there to explain? My village is all but destroyed. My woman has been taken to gods know where, Tingstad or Oslo or the fucking moon, for all I know. My cousin is laying here in agony. Our militia is crippled. And there's supposed to be some _explanation_ for Ove betraying me?"

Heat appeared ready to interject, but Kid snarled in his face to silence him. "I was prepared to accept the fact Nami left. That fucking witch has been trying to flee this village since I brought her here. I expected that damn woman to run away the first chance she had and I'll make sure to give her a piece of my mind when I see her again. But I did not expect to hear that one of _my_ men walked away from me! Did any of you even try to stop him? Did you try to take that fucking traitor's head?"

The men in the hall could not look him in the eye.

"Kid," Killer hissed, drawing his attention down to his cousin. Killer grimaced as he reached to snag his trousers in a loose grip. His back arched in pain, but he did not let go. "Listen to them…"

"Listen to what?" He jerked away from his cousin. "Listen to their pathetic excuses? Listen to how they not only let my woman walk away from me, but one of our strongest assets in battle?"

"Kid," Killer snapped again, but it was futile.

How dare he take their side? How dare he think to calm him? He gave everything he had in his battle and won, but he did not try to leave. He knew what Kid thought of traitors. He knew what the consequences were.

Rage overtook reason as he stormed from the hall. He would go to Oslo and drag that traitor back to put an axe through his neck. He would find that bastard and kill him for breaking his oath. And he would find Nami. He would slaughter everyone in Oslo if they did not return her to him, and if she was not there, he would turn for Tingstad and decimate that bastard Arlong's army.

He made it to the edge of the beach before he felt the sharp bite of iron chains wrap around his body. He wore no shackles, but he could feel them all the same. The chains coiled around his arms and legs and neck like snakes. They bit into his flesh and heart and he fell to his knees with an agonized shout.

Why could he not leave? Why was he still bound? Why were the gods fucking with his life?

 _What will you sacrifice?_

He would give everything he had for the chains to be broken. He would give his life for the strength to end this agony.

 _That is not enough_ , was the answer he received.

How much would he have to give? What more _could_ he give?

"Kid," he heard Killer rasp behind him. He looked up to find his cousin limping between Heat and Wire. He should not be out of his bed. He should be resting, not chasing after him. "Will you listen to me?"

He turned away with a grunt. He could not go anywhere. He may no longer wear the chains Bonney bound him in, but his spirit was restrained by whatever magic the gods cast on him. He could not leave Drafn. Not yet.

Heat and Wire lowered Killer to the ground beside him. Killer hissed and bit back a groan as he placed a hand on Kid's arm.

"I swore an oath to Nami," Killer began between labored breaths. "But I also made an oath to you, and I have not forgotten it."

Kid turned to stare at his cousin as he took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He looked exhausted. He should not push himself to explain anything now. The stubborn fool.

"I swore I would protect Nami in your stead. _We all did_ …" Killer opened his eyes and squeezed Kid's arm. "Ove's betrayal…"

* * *

 _Oslo_

"Will you ever cease your simpering?" Law muttered as he ate his breakfast that morning.

"How am I to eat this?" Nezumi whined from his cage. A bowl of porridge sat in front of him, untouched and growing cold. "You place a spoon at its side as though I have a hand to hold it."

Even as Nezumi wailed in agony, Law could not help but snort in amusement. His captive had been an annoyance for him the last few days, but at least most of his crying had been done in silence. He stared at the wall and wept to himself day and night, and hardly complained except to mutter _"My hands"_ over and over as he rocked himself. That morning had been the first he made mention of his hunger and Law had been gracious enough to give him a share of his meal.

The spoon was given purposefully.

"Many creatures are capable of feeding themselves and they do not require hands," Law said as he glowered at Nezumi. "Eat like a dog." The suggestion received a sneer of contempt that looked pathetic with the tears that trailed down his face. "This ordeal may humble you, Nezumi. Appreciate the opportunity to observe the world from a different view. It may help you see things you have overlooked."

He stood to splash water into his empty bowl and clean it while Nezumi whined to himself. If he remained in his home that day, he may very well kill the man himself to cease his noisiness.

"Though, I doubt the new perspective will bring change to your loathsome personality," Law added as he tossed his cloak over his shoulders. "But one can always hope. Eat like a dog or starve to death. Those are your only options. Whining about it will only extend your agony."

"Trafalgar," Nezumi called to him as he stepped outside. "I cannot live like this."

Law ignored his plight. The bastard had only himself to blame for it. He was deluded, believing himself to have any power in this world. His callousness and greed ensured that his life would descend into misery. He was a weak man, and the weak do not have a choice in their own demise.

But Nezumi continued to have a use, as simple as it may be. He would not let the rat die until he had fulfilled his purpose, though he would not sit by and listen to him whine. If he gave in to despair and died, Law would have to rethink his plans. He was confident that he could devise alternate plans, but he would rather not waste his time when he had other things to consider while in Oslo.

Not the least of which being Lady Nami's own schemes, whatever they may be. The shrewd woman might have joined hands with him in her trials, but she had not yet bothered to share all that she intended to do. She might not have fully envisioned the course of action she would have to take until he offered his help, but he knew she had since devised some plot.

Two days earlier he had watched her leave the hall with Conis and McKinley, all three on horseback. A fourth followed at a distance, unseen by the group, which kindled Law's curiosity but he would not sate it until he had a chance to observe them more. When the group returned late in the evening, Law joined Nami for supper and remarked on her cheerful mood. She only hummed and failed to hide her mischievous smile as she savored a cloudberry. She would not tell him what she was up to, but he was determined to find out that day.

He reached the king's hall and found the main reception room empty of Enel's priests and army. Servants cleared the remnants of breakfast from the tables. He hoped he had not missed Nami and snatched a servant woman by the arm.

"Where is the lady this morning?" he asked brusquely.

The woman bowed her head and gestured toward the passageway leading to the back. "She is in one of the old guest rooms. I can lead you to her," she offered.

"Please."

He was curious what she might be doing in the rooms Enel had no use for. The king had left them in the dark to be filled with dust. But now a warm glow seeped from the room to light the dim hall. When the servant waved for him to enter, he found that the dust had been cleared from the tables and shelves. Golden sconces had fresh candles to brighten the room. Benches sat along the wall with clean furs and pillows draped over them. A long table sat in front of the benches. One end was covered in cloth and thread, a new loom set near it where Conis worked. On the other end, close to the corner, Ove sat with his feet propped on the table as he ran a whetstone over an axe. He raised a brow at the traitor's presence, but he would concern himself with that later. He was far more interested in the woman at the center of the table.

Nami hunched over a book with parchment scattered around her. Her whole focus was on the page she scrawled on. She did not even bother to look up at him when he entered. Ove glanced from his axe, glowered at him, and then returned to his sharpening. Conis was the first to greet him as she looked up from the cloth she weaved.

"Corazon," she said, smiling as she turned from the loom. "Do you wish to visit with Lady Nami again today?"

He grunted in response. Nami had not looked up from her book, so he took a moment to observe the other changes to the room. A cabinet was tucked into a corner opposite the table, its doors open to reveal folded cloth and baskets of yarn. He recognized a distaff on one shelf, a set of tablets for weaving on another. A small table sat in a corner opposite of Ove's seat with a basin and pitcher on top. The floor was lined with soft fur rugs, the walls clad with golden tapestries. The room held warmth to it, with a touch of the opulence found in the rest of the king's hall. He found it to be more inviting than Enel's abundance of gold in the reception room.

"I did not think the king had a use for this room," he mused as he made his way to the table. A bench sat across from Nami that he helped himself to.

"He did not, but Nami wanted a space to work in. Satori said the king would not mind if she claimed a guestroom for herself," Conis explained for her lady.

"What is it she is working on?" Law asked, peering over the table to see for himself. He could not make much sense of the lines she drew over the page. It appeared to be a map, but from his angle he could not be certain.

"A map of Oslofjord," Conis answered.

So, she had talents beyond the magic they claimed her to possess? That was interesting. He slid a piece of parchment closer to see a series of sketches coupled with notes in Frankish. He was impressed that she knew mapmaking, but the knowledge that she could read and write in Frankish, not only speak the language, was remarkable. She was better studied in the language than he anticipated.

Nami snatched the parchment from him before he could examine the notes closer. She sent him a mild glare and set back to work without a word. He shrugged the look off. She was focused on her work, something he could understand. He turned his attention to another sheet of parchment she did not seem to be utilizing at that moment. The sketches there did not seem related to any maps he knew of, and the letters on it were not Frankish. Runes that he could not make sense of were drawn and scratched out and redrawn. He could see frustration on that sheet.

"What are these?" he asked.

Nami still did not answer, but Conis looked away from her work to see what he meant. She squinted at the sheet before turning back to the loom. "Those are runes."

"I gathered as much." He rolled his eyes. "I do not recognize these drawings, though. They are not runes."

"They are runes," she said. "They are runes joined to form sigils."

"Why is she drawing sigils?" he asked.

"I'm not certain. She may mean to guard her work with them. It is common for people to put a mark on what they craft to claim it as theirs and protect it from theft," Conis explained.

"It is magic," Ove added. Nami clucked with her tongue and glared at the other man from the corner of her eye, then set back to work. Ove did not seem to care for her attitude and sneered back. If he had so much contempt for the lady, why was he in the room with her? Why did he follow her so faithfully? "She is a witch. I would guess she means to curse someone with that sigil."

"Why would I curse someone with a sigil?" Nami slammed down the feather she drew with to glare fully at Ove. "Is my existence alone not enough of a curse?"

She received a sneer in answer, and a growl that threatened to start a feud.

"Then what is the sigil for?" Law interjected before the two could bicker. "If it is not a curse."

Nami huffed and gave him her whole attention. "It is as Conis said. It is to mark and protect my maps."

"May I ask why you are drawing a map of Oslofjord?" he asked in Frankish, leaning forward to tap on the parchment in front of her. "Is there a significant purpose to it?"

Nami perched her chin on her hand and smiled at him. Mischief glinted in her eye, just as it had the other night. "I have my reasons," she answered in Frankish.

"You will keep secrets from your brother?" He mimicked her position and expression. She stifled a laugh when she noticed, her smile growing in her mirth. "I thought we had an understanding?"

"We do, but you do not need to know the purpose of my maps," she said. "I will consider telling you their purpose when they are complete and I am able to put them to use."

"You remain in good spirits today," he remarked. "Despite the surly bear in the corner."

She hissed in annoyance. "I don't know why he insisted on joining me in here, but so long as he keeps to his corner and minds his business, I'm not overly concerned about him."

He wondered if she should be, or perhaps she knew more to Ove's purpose in the hall than he thought. Her contempt appeared genuine enough, but Nezumi swore she had a talent for deceit. She may well be acting in her hatred toward the traitor.

But was he truly a traitor? Law needed to know.

Curious, he took Nami's hand in his and pulled it closer. She regarded him with confusion, but did not pull away, even as he ran his fingers over her palm.

"Your hands are stained with ink," he murmured.

"And that is of interest to you because…?"

"How long have you been working on your maps today?" he asked, ignoring her question as he continued to toy with a soft callous on the side of her finger. The skin was red and dented where she held the quill.

"Since before dawn," she answered, her eyes narrowed on him.

He paid no mind to her suspicion as he glanced toward Ove to see the man staring hard at him. He had paused in his work to sneer, but as soon as he noticed Law's gaze, he set back to his sharpening with a contemptuous hiss. That was an intriguing reaction.

His attention turned back to Nami when he felt her fingers curl around his. She leaned over the table to bring herself closer. He did not miss the way her dress shifted with the position, giving him a glimpse down the garment's low neckline. He suspected that was intentional on her part, so was careful to focus on her playful gaze.

"Are you attempting to flirt with me, _brother?_ " she whispered.

The seductive lilt to her tone urged him to peek at Ove once more. He polished his axe with more force than necessary, but refused to look at them again.

"Of course not," Law whispered back as he slipped his hand from hers. "I was merely concerned with the callous and stains on your hand. You should wrap them to protect your skin if you intend to work them so hard."

Nami hummed in disbelief, but sank back onto her bench. She wore a wry, arrogant smile that made him wonder if she noticed Ove's reactions as he had.

"I assure you, _Lady Nami_ ," he began, "I am all too aware of how dangerous it can be to seduce a woman of your heritage. And that is not even taking your supposed curse into account. A woman like you would eat a man for breakfast if you so desired it."

She snorted in amusement, but her posture relaxed to say that she believed him. "Trust me, I have no such desires for any man. Least of all you."

"Not even for the wolf in Drafn?" he asked.

Nami's good humor waned as she turned pensive. Her gaze became distant, but the moment passed quickly and she picked up her quill while she wore a wistful smile. "I suppose I might, but that is not your concern."

"I believe it is," he argued. "If he intends to bring a war here, and I am meant to be an ally to you in that war, it is in my interest to know what your relationship to him is. From what I saw, he is no simple guardian."

She glanced up from her map. "He was courting me," she answered frankly.

"And you were entertaining his suit?" He chuckled.

"Why would that surprise you?" she asked. "You do not know him as I do."

"I might not know him, but he does not seem an adequate husband for a woman like you."

"You hardly know _me_ ; how can you judge what sort of man would suit me for a husband?"

"What I do know of you tells me that you are intelligent, thoughtful, and generally kind… when you are not threatening to kill my hostage or treating me with contempt," he explained. "Jarl Eustass strikes me as a brute. An animal. War and cruelty are all he knows. He makes for an adequate guardian and protector for a woman of such noble birth, but not a husband."

"Our ways are different in the north," she huffed. "And you still do not know him as I do."

"Then enlighten me as to how he is different. Why is he so important to you?"

Nami sighed and turned back to her work. He thought she meant to ignore his queries, but after she began to draw another line on her map, she answered with a tone so soft, he could not deny that her words were heartfelt. "He is a brute, but he has the heart of a skald," she said as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "He makes me feel safe and treasured. He seeks to lift me up with him, not use me for a stepping stone. I can depend on him to be there when I most need him, to share my burdens, to hold my hand when I grieve." She laughed. "And he is a jarl. What woman would not desire to marry a man with status?"

"But now you reside in the hall of a king who vows to make you a queen. Will you turn your sights to him?"

She peeked at him with a grin. "I do love his hall and gold," she admitted. "I have always desired this sort of wealth. It is hard to dismiss. Everything I could ever want is at my fingertips, and if it is not, my new lord would not hesitate to conquer whatever land necessary to attain what I wish to possess. A woman would be a fool not to desire such a capable man."

"You would turn your back on your lover for gold?" he asked, unconvinced.

"Did Nezumi not tell you that that is just the sort of woman I am? I only care about myself and gold. Everything and everyone else is disposable," she said. He still did not believe her, not with the fire in her eyes belying the stoic mask she wore. "Jarl Eustass cannot provide what King Enel can. I stand to gain far more in the king's care than I could with the jarl. I will not hesitate in taking full advantage of that."

"So, you will throw yourself at the king without any remorse?"

"None whatsoever." She shrugged.

"Do you believe he would respond as you desire? I thought he had no intention of marrying you?"

"And I have no intention of marrying him, but he is still a man, and men are simple when it comes to their pride." Her tone was cold and dismissive as she drew. "Enel is no different, though is far more arrogant than others I have met. If I smile wide enough, compliment and praise his glorious existence, and perhaps kiss him while declaring my unworthiness, Enel will soften to me and not question my intentions. I will do anything I must to grab hold of the future I desire. No rules of propriety or honesty will stand in my way."

She had a plan in mind, even if it was merely a seed. The map she earnestly worked on, the room she claimed as her own, even whatever Conis weaved on her loom – they all had a purpose.

"Was my gift of that rat's hands all it took to help you find your spirit and resolve?" he asked. "You seem more determined than you were before, more confident in your choices."

"I was already determined," she answered with a blithe wave of her hand. "I was directionless and uncertain how to achieve success, but I knew that I had to do something. It was a little bird that told me what I needed to hear, and it was your gift that helped me see why he led you to me."

"You mean to take advantage of me, too?"

"Of course." She gave him a sly glance. "For as long as you are useful to me, that is."

"Ah, then you will discard me like all the rest." He feigned insult. "You are a heartless woman, Lady Nami."

"The cruelest," she quipped as she set back to work. "Now leave me alone. I do not have much time to finish this before the king returns."

Law left her to work in peace, but remained in the room to watch. He would trust that she knew what she was doing and would call on him when she had a need for his aid. In the meantime, he would observe her and the people around her, most of all the traitor in her midst that did not seem to be as unfaithful as he hoped to portray.

The morning and afternoon passed with Nami focused on her map. He recognized the main bay just down the slope from the king's hall and the peninsula his own home sat on. She drew what appeared to be a valley toward the east and a ship within it for the king's shipyard. She marked farms to the west and north, a grove of oak trees, the rough terrain on some surrounding hills. Further into the fjord, she drew other islands and peninsulas she passed on her way to Oslo, and marked each with neat, Frankish script.

She did not have to tell him what the map was for as he saw it come together. Everything she drew and emphasized would be important tactical information in the coming war. Ideal places for a fleet of ships to hide, positions that would grant forces the high ground if they invaded by land. When she was nearly done, he could see that she was not happy with it, though she should be. It was exactly what a military commander would need, but she tapped on the parchment and glowered as though something were amiss in her work. As best he could tell, it was as accurate a map as any he had seen.

He would have asked what bothered her, but a throat cleared from the door to interrupt them. He turned to find McKinley with his back rigid and hard gaze set on the newest priest.

"Satori needs your aid at the shipyard," McKinley called to Ove.

The bear had spent the whole day in his corner, lounging with a pitcher of ale. He had finished sharpening and polishing his weapons long before, yet refused to leave and did not appear to be in a hurry to move even with McKinley's summons.

"He does not," Ove grunted as he gouged a mark into his end of the table with a knife.

"A large number of slaves have fled. He and his brothers have found most, but three continue to allude him," McKinley insisted. "I sent as many of my militia-men as I could spare, but we are tasked to remain in the village to maintain order."

"And Satori was tasked to keep those slaves at work in the shipyard," Ove argued, his tone low and apathetic. "I believe he and his brothers intended to make a game out of any escape attempts. It is not my place to interfere in their fun."

"Please, you are one of the king's priests…"

"As is Satori," Ove interrupted. "He would not be quick to aid me if our roles were reversed, though I would not be so incompetent as to allow this escape attempt from the start. I suspect he looked the other way on the first few to make them think it safe to flee, all to make this tedious hunt more entertaining."

"If you do not aid him and Enel returns to find his slaves have fled, it will be on your head," McKinley said.

"It will be on Satori's head," Ove pointed out.

Nami released a loud sigh as the argument turned into a cold stand-off, each man glaring at the other. "Ove, you have done absolutely nothing today but sit there and mutter under your breath about me," she snapped. "And carve up a perfectly nice table." She gestured at his knife and returned the growl he sent toward her. "If you did not want to spend your days chasing slaves, you should not have left Drafn."

"It is not your place to give me commands," Ove hissed.

"Then by all means, remain in this room with me and drown yourself in ale. If Enel returns and takes your head or hands for your laziness, I will not shed a tear for the loss," she bit out with unmasked contempt. "In fact, a traitor like you deserves no better end than to die in misery because he wouldn't get off his ass to fetch a slave or two back to their work. You would leave this world as the pathetic cretin you are."

Ove shoved to his feet with a low growl. Law thought he might lunge at Nami, but he merely snatched up his axe and stomped toward the door. Nami sat back with a satisfied huff. She dismissed the angry mercenary as she pulled her sigils toward her and focused on the work she had set aside earlier. She behaved calm and unperturbed, even as Ove pushed McKinley out of his way with a loud snarl.

This was as ideal a situation as any to close in on the bear.

"I will aid in the search," Law said to McKinley as he stood. He nodded to Nami when he caught her regard him with curious bemusement and set off to follow the trail of destruction left in the bear's wake.

A table was turned over in the hall and a servant desperately tried to save a chair that had been tossed into the hearth. It had sent burned embers and fiery shards of wood to scatter around the room. A fur rug smoldered as a servant stamped out the flame that threatened to grow from it. For a man who claimed to hold such contempt for Nami, her words seemed to have cut him deep despite his supposed apathy.

Law held tight to the sword that hung from his belt and hurried after Ove. The mercenary did not seem to take notice of him until he had come alongside him. His expression was twisted with rage, his eyes burned as he glared at the unwelcome company. Law merely grinned.

"My, you make such haste when your lady beckons you to act," Law said with a snide tone. "Did her words insult you so much? Why would you care what she thinks of you? You have not been shy about your disdain for her."

"I have work to do," Ove growled in answer. "If all you mean to do is pester me, then leave before I take my axe to your neck."

Law chuckled as the priest quickened his pace and aimed for a path that wound east toward the valley Enel's shipyard lay. He held his tongue until they were far enough from the village to ensure none would overhear. Ove took another sharp turn to delve into the thick woods once the valley loomed ahead of them. The dark fur he wore blended into the trees. His large, muscular figure could easily be mistaken for a bear if one did not notice his long lavender hair. The long Dane axe he held in his hand was as dangerous as any bear's tooth and claw. Law gripped his sword tighter and prepared for whatever reaction he might be met with at his next words.

"Did you betray your jarl to steal her for yourself? If that is the case, you will have a hard battle to win her favor," Law called ahead to him.

Ove stopped in his tracks and Law stopped behind him. He kept his gaze on the man's wide shoulders and glanced at the hand that tightened around the axe's shaft. A short guffaw surprised him and he nearly lowered his guard, but he tensed the moment Ove's left foot pivoted him around.

Even prepared as he was, he still found his throat intimately close to the freshly sharpened axe blade. His arms trembled as he locked his sword with the inner curve of the axe head. Ove towered in front of him with a dangerously wide grin. A tree sat at his back, as hard and unforgiving as a rock, but at least it helped him stay on his feet as Ove pressed into him with his full weight.

"You just cannot keep your nose from my business," Ove hissed in Frankish. That was not a language Law expected to hear from the mercenary. "Ask another question and I will have to kill you. I do not care if you have offered your hand in brotherhood to her. I will slit your throat before you can put her in danger."

"My questions are enough to put her in danger?" Law strained to ask. He already knew the answer, but he needed to prod for more of the truth. The struggle that played in Ove's eyes showed his anxiety at being found out and Law could not help but grin. "You are not here for yourself. You are here for your jarl."

Ove growled and pushed into him harder. The cold bite of the blade teased his pulse. He felt a nick, but nothing more.

"Does Lady Nami know you did not betray Jarl Eustass?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Ove snarled.

"That her contempt is genuine enough, but I hear she is gifted at deception," Law admitted.

"Her contempt is genuine," Ove whispered. "It must be. If the king's magic is stronger than her own, then my betrayal must be real for him to trust it. In her eyes, I am a traitor and that is what I will remain as."

The underlying threat in his words was not lost on Law. "Understood," he said. "I will not let her or the king believe you to be anything but the traitor you are. I will swear it upon the oath I made your lady, if need be."

"You are a trickster in the guise of a friend," Ove grunted, yet still he shoved away from him as though satisfied. "I will not believe your oath to her or anyone. But I will have my axe ready to take your head the moment you prove to be useless."

"Ah, just as Lady Nami, you only mean to use me," he quipped.

"Assuming you do have a use. If she believes you do, then I can only trust her decision," Ove said as he turned away to continue his hunt for the escaped slaves.

The dismissal was clear, but Law still trailed behind him. He felt it safe enough to return his sword to his scabbard, but did not take his hand from the hilt. The mercenary's temper was unpredictable.

"Does she know you speak Frankish?" Law asked as Ove cut through thick underbrush and searched for tracks.

"No," he answered flatly.

"Does your jarl?"

"Yes."

"Then how is it your lady does not? Were you not close to her?"

"I do not make a habit of discussing myself," Ove explained.

"As any good mercenary would take care not to do." Law chuckled. "You are obviously close enough to your jarl and brothers in Drafn to be entrusted with this task, but you are not close enough to the lady in your keep to share something as simple as a second language you share with her?"

"Why would it matter if we both spoke Frankish? There was no need of it in Drafn." Ove glanced back with furrowed brows. "What use is this interrogation of yours? You have learned what you desired, now return to the hall and leave me to my hunt."

"Do not tell me what to do," Law said, "or I will kill you first." Ove snorted, but his grip tightened on his axe in preparation for any attack Law attempted. "I am merely curious why you and your brothers are so dedicated to Lady Nami if you are not that close."

"Why are you dedicated to her?" Ove asked instead. "You have known her for an even shorter time than I, yet you held out your hand to her and swore your allegiance to her and her alone. Did her tears move you? Was I mistaken when I believed no heart beat in your chest? Was the black shadow I glimpsed within you merely my imagination?"

"We are not discussing me," Law growled. "Do not act as though you know anything about me."

Ove chuckled, the sound full of knowing. "I cannot speak for my brothers, they each hold their own reason in their heart. I know Jarl is besotted with her, enchanted by her very existence. His cousin adores her, though he is less inclined to show it. The healer has taken to her as a man would take to a young sibling. The others are infatuated with her in varying degrees. Blinded by her beauty, most were quick to lust for her. Only our jarl's claim tempered their desires until they turned to a genuine fondness and friendship."

"And you? You do not share their lust?"

"I was not born with such desires for women," Ove admitted.

Law thought to question his meaning, but it quickly dawned on him and left him speechless.

"My faith in her is not the same as theirs," Ove continued. "Many men like me would often give themselves to Freyr, but a priestly, peaceful life was not for me and a sacrifice would not have aided my family. They were too poor to own land of their own, so what good would blessings of fertile soil and rich harvests give them? Rage and war came to me easily. If I made enough coin as a mercenary for the richest kings and jarls, then perhaps I could buy my family land and give use to Freyr's blessings. I could join him in Alfheim and be content there as a wife."

"You do not desire to be with Odin as others of your people do?"

"No. If I cannot be welcomed into Freyr's realm, if my rage cannot be quelled by him, then I would be satisfied to be chosen by his sister. I will be deserving of that choice so long as I remain steadfast at the side of Freyja's granddaughter, of that I have no doubt."

Law chuckled, earning a sharp glare from the mercenary. He could not help the amusement. The devotion these men held for their gods and the woman they were entrusted with was unfathomable to him. They were so willing to give their lives for her, all with blind hope that the gods would chose them in death. They could not even be certain of that fate and yet they still strove toward it.

"Do you believe you are strong enough to choose your own death?" Law asked.

Ove paused to tilt his head back and gaze up into the trees. "No man is strong enough to bend the will of the gods. No man will ever be strong enough to choose how and when they die, but they can become strong enough to decide what purpose their death will serve and dictate what tales are told of them once they are gone. The rest is beyond our control."

That was a sentiment he could respect, even if he did not believe in their gods or any other. Death would not heed to any man or woman when their time came, but the strong can determine their purpose in life and death. The man before him had decided what purpose he would serve and that would dictate how death might find him, but he would know no remorse for the choice he made. Nor would his jarl or any others that fought at Lady Nami's side.

Silence sank over them for a time as they trekked through the woods in aimless pursuit of lost slaves. Ove did not seem to put much effort into the task and Law felt no inclination to aid him. Satori was the one who lost them, let him find them.

Ove's sudden chuckle broke the easy silence. "Oh, since we have reached this understanding, let us reach another," he said.

Law hummed in confusion and the mercenary glanced back with a vicious grin.

"If you ever think to lay a hand on my lady again, I will cut it off," he warned. "No man may touch my jarl's woman so informally."

Law snorted. "You do not need to worry about me. I think you will need to concern yourself with the king's interest in her. You heard Nami. She will happily throw herself at him without hesitation."

"As she will do with any man she wants something from," Ove said with another laugh. "I will not interfere in her schemes. She is free to flirt with whomever she desires. I have no power to stop her. But I will not allow any man to believe he can take her for himself."

"And if Enel thinks he can take her?"

"He will answer to my jarl when he comes. In the meantime, all others shall answer to me."

"I sense you take pleasure in threatening to behead men."

"I take pleasure in _beheading_."

"Then I think you and I will get along remarkably well."

* * *

Enel was delayed in his return to the hall, just as Nami's runes had led her to believe. She did not mind his absence. She relished the time she was given to prepare all she would need to steer Kid through this course from afar. She knew she did not have much time.

Only days after Enel left, days after she joined hands with Law as her ally, she heard the pained howl of a wolf echo in her mind. She had been in the middle of training with Ove when it came. The momentary trance jolted her from reality and she might have lost a finger or hand if she had not fallen to her knees in her shock. Ove pulled back to watch her shiver but did not ask what had come over her, what had filled her with such fear that she could not stop how her frame trembled.

He tucked his axe away, waved for Conis to gather her up and declared the day's training complete. After that moment, he was a fixture in her daily activities. She would have wondered on his motives if she did not have so much else to be concerned with. Law appeared to have taken a keen interest in the traitor and she decided he could worry about Ove for her.

Kid had returned to Drafn and there was much she still had to prepare for the war he would soon bring. She had a direction, though. She had a plan forming within her mind. She knew what she had to do and had the resources to accomplish it.

When she first walked through Oslo, she had wanted to remain unseen and observe from the shadows. She had not wanted to be associated with the king the villagers obviously despised, but if she was to exert any influence on what was to come, she could not continue to slink about.

Loki was correct to remind her that deception was part of her nature. She lived it for eight long years. She deceived Arlong and the people in Tingstad, made them believe she was a loyal ward to the jarl. She lived as an outsider among people who had once been family. She was shunned, ostracized, treated as a plight upon them. She held her head high and did not let their anger touch her then, and she could do it again in Oslo.

She had to if there would be any hope of moving forward. The painful reminder that Nojiko remained in Tingstad, waiting for her, strengthened her resolve. If she and Kid could not overcome this trial, there would be no freedom for the people she left behind. If Kid was meant to battle Arlong for her freedom, then he would need to find victory in Oslo first. And she would use everything at her disposal to give him that victory.

Enel had given her power in his hall and village, whether he realized it or not. He had elevated her to a rank that made her a target of the people's hatred, but also armored her with the fear they felt for the king that stole the throne with such ease. He may not have given her a crown, not yet, but he said she would be queen and that alone carried enough weight to sway the people as he would. She was the lady of his hall, the one of noble birth, the queen who would reign with his interests in mind.

Exerting that power within his hall was simple, even his priest did not question her desire for a work room, nor her insistence on a loom and distaff and tablets. Utilizing her power outside the hall, among the free people, would not be so easy. They had not masked their suspicions of her when she tried to show them a friendly face, as hunched and fearful as they were. They did not see her as the hostage she was, did not pity her plight. She was a priestess now and she must have been granted that title for a reason. Enel did not make people priests if they were not of use to him, and those people always held an interest in the power of their title. If she were in their positions, she would feel the same, especially when that priestess was declared future queen. No woman would ignore such a title, not when it came with wealth and security. Her timid nature would be viewed as a ruse, she would be considered a snake hidden in the fields, a wolf among their sheep.

So, she shed the guise of unwilling hostage and gave the people the queen they desired to hate. She clad herself in the finest dresses Enel had given her and stepped out with the straight posture of an arrogant noble, stared down her nose at the people, and walked through the village with a cadre of armed guards to ensure their fear of her was genuine. She did not smile, did not show them warmth. She did not show them her fear or her sorrows. She looked forward and took what she needed. They could hate her for it all they wished. She would be the one to herald a war upon them, their hatred was not undeserved.

In two weeks, she had accrued much of what she needed and only for a pittance of the gold in Enel's hoard, but there was still more yet to do before she could make her first move. Her map was complete and she had begun another. The first she had made would remain hidden with her treasures, a bind rune carved into the lid of her jewelry box to deter any from peeking inside, but the second would be left out for Enel to see. He would ask why she desired a workroom of her own and she would not lie, not when Satori or McKinley could undermine it with their knowledge of the work she did. She would impress the king with her map of his territory and Kid's, as well as the western coast of Svealand, stretching down to the Kattegat and Denmark. He already knew the terrain around Drafn, it would not make any difference if Enel had a map of it or not, and she had no qualms showing him where Tingstad and Arlong's territory lay. If she led Enel to believe that the map was for him, he would not question it. She also had plans to craft a map of the route to England and she heard that Enel might have more charts in his chambers that showed routes to Iceland and Greenland. She hoped to borrow those maps to maintain the ruse that she worked for his ambitions, charting a route to the new world he wished to conquer.

She had gathered leather, fine horsehides, strings of amber and gold beads, unspun wool, gilded thread, jeweled brooches and buckles, and every manner of material to craft the mask she desired to wear. She would do as Loki would, shift her appearance to suit Enel's needs, to mimic his grace and arrogance and apathy. She would be exactly what Enel desired in every way she could. She worked on her costume in plain sight, but stole discarded scraps and lost beads and cut thread to hide in her treasure box.

The leather went to a belt, the horsehide to a bodice. The amber and gold were woven into the knotted seams and trim of her newest dress to glint as bright as Enel's hall. The gilded thread was woven into the likeness of a prowling cat upon the back of a new cloak, the lynx fur that belonged to her family cleaned and repurposed for the new piece. The buckles and brooches would fasten a long-sleeved coat and new fur shawls she commissioned Enel's servants to craft for her.

The leather and hide also went to an old purse she had brought from Drafn. Each night, while Conis slept, Nami sewed each sliver of leather she had by the flicker of a single candle. Her fingers ached come the morning, but the effort was worth it once her work was complete. The patchwork leather was a circle no bigger than her fist and fit along the base of the purse, with a little room to spare.

She still had enough leather to weave a simple bracelet with the extra amber and gold she pilfered. The bracelet was a gift to Conis for her hard work, as well as to keep anyone from questioning what she might have taken the scraps for, should they have noticed. The bracelet would also brand Conis as _hers_ and hopefully protect her from Enel. The handmaid would be the one she entrusted her secrets to when the time came, and she would protect the woman with everything she had.

That day she woke with a list of tasks in mind that still needed to be completed. It was no different than any other day. Even the dreams she woke from were the same. She had been dreaming of Yggdrasil and the wolf bound to its roots every night since the vision showed her what she had only been able to hear. Each dream the wolf grew weaker, but still she could hear him growl and whine and struggle against his chains. Since the howl that reached her in the middle of the day, her dreams showed the wolf struggled less and less. That night he had curled on top of the roots and remained silent for most of the vision. Sometimes she heard a faint growl, lethargic and defeated. Sometimes she heard the chains rattle as he chewed at one wound around his paw. Most of the noises he made were huffs and grunts and whines. He had resigned himself to his bonds, but she knew he would soon try to fight them again.

Loki had sat upon a branch far above her head in those dreams. He had shed his disguise as he lounged against the trunk. His long, fiery hair fluttered in the cold breeze. A hand hung down, limp with sleep or laziness, allowing her to see sharp nails on long, slender fingers. He said nothing to her until that last night as he glimpsed down at the bound wolf.

" _He waits faithfully for his salvation,"_ he whispered. _"For the one he can hold onto in this storm."_

She shot awake knowing what she had to do and did not waste a moment preparing herself. Kid needed salvation. He needed a map, a direction, a plan. He needed a message and she would soon be able to deliver it. He needed hope that soon his chains would be broken.

Nami shook Conis awake and did not wait for her to rise before she stoked the fire in her chambers to fight off the morning's chill. By the time Conis had brought her fresh water to wash her face, Nami had picked her dress for the day and arranged the golden clips she wished to wear in her hair. She dressed in blue the same shade as the king's eyes and had Conis brush out most of her hair so that it fell in waves down her back with a ringlet of braids to sit atop her head as a crown. The glint of gold in the woven locks matched the glimmer of the beads and gilded thread sewn into her dress' bodice and sleeves. A regal appearance to befit the woman Enel meant to crown.

Conis held up a bronze mirror from the Mediterranean that they found within Enel's hoard. It had become routine for Nami to inspect herself in the mirror. She practiced her posture, held her head high, and checked to see that her mask was in place. Her brown eyes looked cold and emotionless, as dark as the earth, without a glimmer of amber or fire. Her lips remained rigid and stoic, the only smile she allowed was a quirk of her lips, a touch of a smirk. Not a hint of the anxiety swirling in her gut showed on her expression. She may as well be carved from stone.

She swept into the hall with her carefully crafted air. Enel's men congregated around the long tables, their attentions fixed on the bowls of porridge and plates of bread and cheese and smoked fish. They spared her a short glance, a nod, and then set back to devouring their meals. Satori was already at his table and did not look up as she took her seat at her table on the opposite side of Enel's dais. Ove walked into the room after her and sat down at her side to eat in silence.

She ignored him. She did not question his presence, his choices, his existence. That morning it was easy to forget he was even there as her mind considered all she wished to do that day.

"Conis," she called once her plate was nearly empty. "I will need a handful of servants to help me tend the rowans in the yard after the meal."

"You wish to tend the trees?" Satori chimed in before Conis could speak. He chuckled quietly and ignored Nami's withering stares. "Why bother with that task? Set the slaves to work on them."

"The rowans are sacred. I can feel Sif within them. I cannot trust a slave to trim their dead branches without damaging her," she stated. "Our king would not be pleased if our ancestor's wife was harmed or insulted. It is important to treat her with care, as well as her trees."

Satori shrugged indifferently. "They are only trees. Enel is the only god here that matters."

"He is only here because of those who came before," she argued before waving him off. "It does not matter. I want to trim them. Even if you do not believe what I say, it is important that the king's hall is well kept, and it is my duty as the lady to see it done properly."

"If you say so." Satori sighed.

"I will gather the servants, then," Conis said as she hastened to finish her meal and see to the task.

A horn bellowed outside and broke into the peace of breakfast. The men stood from their tables, save for Satori who continued to gnaw on a piece of fish with an air of apathy. The men calmed shortly after when no other blast came to warn of an attack. McKinley called for his militia to head outside and see to the source of the signal, assuming it to be an incoming ship or messenger, while the rest of the hall settled back into their meals.

It was not long after when McKinley reappeared with an exhausted man Nami recognized as a servant Enel took with him on his tour of the farms. He did not appear beaten or bruised, only pale and wane, shivering from the morning chill as he took to the fire in the center hearth.

"The king will be returning by this afternoon," McKinley announced. "He sent this man ahead to see that the hall is prepared for him."

"Judging by his servant's appearance, he will need hot food and a warm bath to greet him," Nami said with a sigh. She turned to Conis. "The king's comfort takes priority over my chores. We will not take any servants or slaves for the tasks that need to be done for him. If one or two can be spared, that will be enough, otherwise I will tend the trees on my own if need be."

"I will help," Ove volunteered with a quiet grunt. He ignored her shocked look as he slurped up the last of his porridge. "I have no other chores to see to. Leave the slaves to their work."

She nodded her thanks, unable to say more as she wondered why he would help her at all. It was better than nothing and Ove was strong enough to do the work of ten. He would not question what use she had for the trimmed branches, either. No matter how little she may trust him, he never argued or questioned her need for anything. She needed her workroom, he helped move the furniture for her. She desired armed guards, he was the first to volunteer.

She shook away her thoughts. She could not wonder on his motives, it would only lead her to hope and trust in a man who showed he was all too willing to betray a brother. He was a mercenary. He followed the path of highest value and glory. He may well intend to use her as other men would. Who better to ensure wealth and glory in battle than Freyja's grandchild.

A cold mist settled over the bay that morning with a threat of rain held in the dark clouds that loomed above. Nami donned her new cloak as Conis gathered whatever slaves she could to help with the rowans. Ove waited outside her quarters and followed in her wake as she headed toward the courtyard to see how many hands she would have in this task. Her surly guard was covered in his thick bear pelts and wore a wool cap trimmed with fur to warm his ears, but his cheeks and nose still grew pink from that day's cold.

The day before it had been sunny and pleasant, a promise of warm summer weather. She felt it strange that such dreary weather would fall upon them just as the king was set to return. An ill omen hung in the air. Bleak skies, bleak fate. She tried not to think much of the chill crawling down her spine. Whatever dark clouds hung over her, she would strive forward until she found the sun again.

"We have two men to help," Conis announced once they reached the main path that wound through the central grove.

Nami scrutinized the two slaves. Meager rags hung on thin frames, hardly enough wool in the cloth or meat on their bones to keep them warm. They shivered where they stood. One clung to a ladder they procured for the chore as though that was all that would hold him up.

She glowered at Conis. Her handmaid shrugged and gave her a nervous smile. "They need the heartier men in the shipyard."

"And there were no hearty women?" she asked.

"Some are hauling the water to fill the tub for King Enel, the others are preparing the meal for his return. They must butcher two goats for his favorite stew and he prefers the freshest apples and berries they have. It is much work to do," Conis explained.

Nami sighed. "Then these two will do. It is better than none. At least find them some furs to wear and have the cook set aside some broth and meat as a reward once they are done." Conis nodded and rushed off to find the clothing. Nami turned to smile at Ove. "You will have to do the brunt of the labor, I'm afraid."

He grunted in understanding, did not argue or glare, and moved by her to snatch the ladder from the slave. The other slave held a small, chipped axe and made to offer it to the berserker. Ove glared in distaste at the tool and slid his own axe from his belt. The slave balked at the sharp, polished weapon, scampered back in fear, but Ove continued into the trees without a word.

Nami closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That man's attitude was an annoyance, but he was at least helping.

Once calm, she hurried down the dirt trodden path behind him. The slaves followed her and eventually Conis found them with two heavy pelts draped over her arms for the two men to wear. They sighed in relief the moment the furs were wrapped around their torsos.

"Start with the uppermost branches," Nami ordered, pointing at the first tree. "The ones lacking fruit. Cut them close to the trunk and be mindful of the healthy branches around them. The branches that have a few dead twigs can be ignored. If you can reach the dead pieces, only cut those, but leave the rest. Focus on the larger branches."

Ove grunted, the slaves nodded. The weaker men stayed at the bottom to hold the ladder while Ove climbed. The ladder only reached the bottom boughs, but Ove easily pulled himself up into the higher branches. For a large man, he climbed gracefully, did not panic when the branches and tree bowed under his weight. Once the branches became too thin and weak to hold him safely, Ove planted himself against the trunk and stretched up to reach the branches that needed to be trimmed.

He worked quickly as the tree swayed with every swing of his axe. Two strikes broke one branch free and he let it fall to the ground as he set to work on another branch. The slaves had to jump away as each branch fell, but Nami waved for them to stay close.

"Gather them as they come down," she ordered, stepping closer to inspect the branches Ove sent down. The first was too small, the second too thin, the third too cracked and rotted. "That one," she said as the slaves snatched up the fourth. It was just the right size. The base cleanly cut with a segment as thick and long as her forearm. "Set it in separate pile," she commanded. "Any branches that look similar, about that size –" she held up her forearm and wrapped her fingers around it to show the measurement she desired "- set those aside and trim the twigs and bark from them."

With her new directions given, the men inspected and sorted the branches as they came down. When Ove was finished, one man held the ladder to help him climb down and then helped him climb up into the next tree. Nami observed, scrutinized each branch that the slaves had cleaned, and stared up into the boughs Ove balanced on.

Conis brought her a cup of mulled wine as the morning wore on. The servants in the kitchen had prepared a batch with dried berries and apples, sprinkled with spices bought from Muslim traders. It warmed her cheeks and brightened her spirits, even as the mist turned into a light drizzle.

"Ove, stay in the lower branches," she called as the berserker climbed into his tenth tree. Conis held the ladder firm beneath him, leaving the men to work on the branches she needed. The boughs had grown slick with the rain and made climbing difficult. They may have to end the chore early, but she had enough cleaned and trimmed branches, so it wasn't necessary to continue. "If you slip again, we'll finish this another day when the weather is clear."

He waved his axe in answer and set to work on the bare branches in the middle of the tree.

"Ah, cut that branch there," Nami called to the slaves cleaning the dead branches for her. "Right there in the middle. Toss that gnarled half in with the rest. I can't use knotted or gnarled branches like that."

Footsteps splashed through a puddle behind her. She glimpsed over her shoulder to see a man walking toward them, shrouded in black feathers and wool with his head down to shelter his face from the rain.

"What chore are you making these men suffer through in this weather?" Law asked as he neared. She caught a peek of one gold eye and lopsided smirk. "This is miserable weather for gardening."

"Are you here to help them? The task will be done much sooner with extra hands," she teased.

Law snorted and stopped at her side to stare up into the boughs where Ove worked. "My skills lie in cutting limbs from men, not trees."

"Ove's skills are the same," she said in mock seriousness, "and he is doing a splendid job with the trees."

Law glowered down at her. She pouted back. He rolled his eyes and she finally relented with a quiet snicker.

"Fine, if you are not here to help, then what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked with dripping sweetness as she wound her arm through his.

He cocked a brow and pointedly regarded the intimate gesture. When she only held him tighter to steal some of his warmth, he glanced up toward Ove in the trees. "I heard the horn earlier. Thought I would investigate the reason for it."

"It took you this long to come?"

"My captive has been noisy again. I was busy sewing his lips shut," he said, not hint of a jest in his tone. She nearly grimaced at the image, but remembered that it was Nezumi's lips that were sewn and decided it was a satisfying image, even if she would still rather see him dead. "And the rains slowed my trek to the village," Law added. "I saw no new ships in the bay. Did a messenger arrive?"

Nami nodded. "The king is supposed to return by this evening."

"Ah, that would explain the servants' fervor in readying the main hall." He leaned over her shoulder to look into her cup. "And the wine. That would warm a man's bones in this chill."

She could hear the longing in his words and smiled ruefully as she took another sip. "It is delicious."

"And yet you do not offer your brother a cup?"

"Perhaps when the king arrives, he will share with you."

"That is not very hospitable of you," he huffed.

She snickered at his disappointment, but held her cup out for him to take. "Don't throw a fit. I was just teasing you."

He snatched the cup with a gloved hand and downed the last of her wine. "This weather is too miserable to stand your teasing, Lady Nami," Law said flatly. "Now, will you tell me what you are up to making these men suffer in the rain?"

"It is only a chore," Nami insisted. "The trees needed trimming."

His expression said that he did not believe her and urged her to confess her schemes. He had been patiently waiting for her to share more than she had. Perhaps it was finally time to let him in on her whole plot.

"Have you played hnefatafl, Corazon?" she asked in Frankish.

His brows pinched in confusion. "Of course."

"Then we should play some time," she said, smiling brightly at him. It was the most she had smiled in days, though it was no more genuine than her others. It drew a curious look from Law, but she ignored it as she watched the men working on her branches. "I'm constructing my board and laying out my pieces."

Law's posture relaxed beside her and she heard his low, raspy chuckle. He was smart enough to understand with only that.

"Your map," he whispered knowingly. "And what of these rowan branches? What purpose do they serve?"

"The rowan is sacred to Sif and was once Thor's salvation. It is a sacred tree and filled with magic, particularly the magic needed to protect that which is important," she explained.

"And you mean to send these to your wolf to protect him in this storm?"

She nodded. "And guide him through it."

"You seemed displeased with your map when last I saw it. Are you happy with it now?"

Nami frowned at that question. "I am as happy as I can be with it. I do not have much time, so it will have to do for now, but I feel it is missing something."

"You need all your pieces in place to launch a successful attack on the king," Law mused. "You are missing pieces, then?"

"What have you heard of the other berserker?" she whispered. "Kid could use every ally he can find. If he can make common cause with this chieftain…"

"All I know is that his territory is further north, into the mountains. Those lands are not very fertile, which is the reason they cross into the king's stolen territories and raid where they can. But, I have heard nothing else of them," he said, sounding as unhappy as she felt. But he looked down at her with a confidant glimmer in his eye and spared her a hint of a smile as he placed his hand over hers. "I will keep my ears open and tell you if I hear any more. The king won his throne by surrounding the village from every angle. He will likely expect that strategy if his enemies gather together."

"I will need to strike from within to catch him by surprise," she agreed. "That I will accomplish –" She patted his hand. "With my new brother, of course."

"I am an outsider, Lady Nami," he reminded. "It will be difficult for me to strike from within."

"I have a feeling that you will not be an outsider for long, Corazon," she said. "Not if my first move succeeds."

"And what move are you plan–" A horn blast interrupted him and they both gazed back at the king's hall as they listened to an answering blast coupled by the sodden clomp of horses trotting through mud.

Nami squeezed Law's hand to bring his attention back to her. She held his gaze. "You will know soon," she whispered. "All you need to do is trust me a little."

He stared in thoughtful silence for a long moment, but eventually gave her a nod.

She released his arm and hollered up at Ove to stop working. "We'll finish another day. We need to greet King Enel." He waved down at her and began to slowly lower himself from the slick boughs. Nami turned to Conis. "Have them bring the clean branches to my quarters. The rest can be turned into kindling. Perhaps for the king's bath. And then see that they are fed well for their work."

"Of course, Lady Nami." Conis nodded. "Is there anything else you will need?"

"Not at the moment," she said, turning to take Law by the arm to walk to the hall with him. "Join us in the hall once the men are seen to."

Ove leapt from the last branch and landed in the mud, splattering the nearby men and Conis' skirt. Nami did not miss the glare he set on Law as he stalked toward them. He had been amicable throughout the day, but his sneer said that his mood had soured considerably. She shrugged it off, blamed it on the poor weather. He was cold and tired and prepared to take it out on whoever drew his ire first. That was the most reasonable excuse for his snarl.

"He does not seem to like you," Nami mused as Ove shoved by to head inside.

Law shrugged. "I doubt it's personal. He seems to dislike everyone."

"He was never this way in Kid's hall," she muttered.

Law tugged on her arm to lead her toward the hall. "Did you two get along well?"

"Well enough," she huffed. "He was quiet and kept to himself. He did not fall over himself to impress me like the others, but that was not strange. There were others in Kid's hall that were quiet and distant. I do not remember him being so rude, though. And he got along so well with the children."

"Circumstances have changed. He resides in a new hall, with people who do not seem to care for one another, and must live with the knowledge that he betrayed a man who will likely not forgive him for it. Let him be surly and short-tempered. You have greater things to concern yourself with." He squeezed her arm and drew her attention to his mischievous smile. "Such as that first move you intend to make. Now that the king has returned, how quickly do you intend to act?"

Nami frowned in thought. "I can not act too hastily, but I can not waste too much time. I will give him a day or two to settle back into his routine and approach him."

"I take it I should not be a stranger to this hall in the meantime?"

"If you did not have a prisoner to keep, I would spare you a bed in my work room," she said with a laugh. "Be here as often as you can."

A servant greeted them once they entered the main hall. They were given linen cloth to wipe away the mud on their shoes and clothes before heading further inside. Enel's laughter bellowed from the reception room. He was in good spirits, despite the weather and the length of his journey. That was good. She would have a better chance of plying favors from him when he was jovial.

Servants rushed through the corridors from the kitchens with plates and pitchers as Nami and Law made their way to the king's reception hall. Enel stood tall beside the hearth as he spoke with his priests while he dried his curly blond hair with a linen towel. His white tunic was pulled from his trousers, the neck open and loose to reveal damp and pale skin. Another slave ran by with a pile of dry clothes in hand, prompting the king to shed his sodden shirt and change in the middle of the room.

"Nami," he greeted as he tossed his tunic into the face of another slave. His grin wavered as his gaze settled on Law. "Corazon," he said without warmth.

"You were away longer than we expected," Nami said, skipping ahead of Law to distract the king from the outsider's presence. "I almost thought to worry."

Enel's brow rose and his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. "Worry? For me? I find that offensive."

She waved off the threat of his ire and came to stand before him. "My runes said you would be delayed," she insisted before sticking her lip out in a pout. "I trusted that you would return safely. A king and god such as you would not fall on a simple journey to farmlands. But I feared that a delay might bring poor news from the farms you visited. Any delay they cause could potentially delay your voyage to the world you've foreseen, and I am eager to set sail with you." She puffed her cheeks in a show of irritation. "And is it really so wrong to worry for a man I owe so much to. I've lost much in life already. I would not be able to bear losing you so soon after you found me."

"Is that so?" He threw his head back with a laugh. She fought the urge to flinch when he raised his hand and set it atop her head. Her shoulders relaxed as he stroked her hair. "I suppose if your concerns were heartfelt and genuine, and you had not lost faith in me, then your worry can be forgiven." When his hand fell away to unlace his trousers, Nami turned her back to him. "Satori tells me that you have made yourself at home while I was away," Enel mused as she listened to him change.

"I did. I hope you do not mind that I found a use for a guest room."

"It was gathering dust. If you have a need for it, then by all means, feel free to use it," Enel said. "I do not understand why you cannot do your work in the main room, though."

"I had Conis weaving fabric for more clothes. The loom has no place near your throne. And I need peace and quiet when I work on my maps. If I worked out here, I would have your militia and soldiers running about, drinking and eating, and quite possibly spilling all over my hard work. It is best if I maintain my space separate from them," she said.

"If that is what you feel, then I will not argue," Enel agreed. She felt her cloak flutter and glanced over her shoulder to see him assessing the new piece. His smile said he approved. "This suits you much better than that rag."

Seeing that he had fresh blue trousers on, Nami spun to grin at him. "I had hoped that you would appreciate it. I have your servants working on other dresses, too, so that I might not embarrass you when I walk at your side. A woman clad in gold and amber and the finest silks would hardly be enough for a god such as yourself, but the peasants do not know better and will be impressed with the power and wealth you possess nonetheless."

Enel hummed as he donned a fresh white tunic, lined with gold and blue thread along collar and sleeve. The fire made the thread glimmer as though it were sparks of lightning. A servant helped secure his thick leather belt around his waist, filling the hall with the chime of the belt's golden rings as they struck one another. Once dressed, he sat down beside the fire and kicked his feet up onto the stone edge of the hearth to warm them.

"And what of Corazon?" Enel asked her as a servant brought him a cup of mulled wine. His voice was low, the question meant only for her. He cast his eyes to the table Law had quietly sat down at, a distance from the king and his priests and servants. "Has he behaved himself?"

Nami crouched down beside him with an easygoing smile. "He has kept me company while you were away, nothing more. It is good to have someone to practice my Frankish with, especially my letters. I learned how to draw my maps by mimicking ones from Francia, so I prefer to use Frankish script on my work. Unfortunately, it is not my strong suit," she lied. "Corazon is better educated in that regard."

"What purpose do your maps serve, anyway?" His eyes narrowed as he regarded her closely, his cup hovering before his lips.

"Why, they are for you," she said, feigning surprise that he would be suspicious of them. "I know you are already familiar with this region and I would not presume that you need them, but your soldiers and generals could use the additional information to better guard against attack. The wolf I abandoned in Drafn will try to attack someday. It is best to be prepared in every way." At his nod of understanding, she brightened. "And, it is good practice for the chart I mean to make for our voyage." His brow lifted in silent question, beckoning that she elaborate. "I heard you have charts for the route to Greenland."

"I do," he assured.

"I can take those charts, as well as the map I mean to create for the route to England, and surmise an ideal route to take us farther. I will find a way to get your arc and fleet to the rich lands far to the west as expediently as possible, with minimal loss of life. I hope."

"Very good," he praised as he reached out to pat her hair. "I am glad to hear that you have fully embraced your fate here. We will accomplish great things together."

Her cheeks ached with how wide her smile grew and the laugh she gave him sounded foreign to her ears, hardly genuine. But it seemed to please the king as he continued to stroke her hair while he relaxed by the fire. He did not doubt her faithfulness to him.

"So, what delayed you?" she asked, casting a look toward Ohm as he took a seat near the king. He was still dressed in his sodden tunic and trousers, but did not seem in a rush to change. He waved off the servant that brought him new clothes, muttered a command that they fill a bath in his quarters and bring his supper to him there. He appeared weary from their trek that morning, unlike the relaxed posture of the king.

"Trivial matters," Enel said with a wave, drawing her attention back to him. "Ah, though it does remind me, I have gifts for you."

"Gifts?" Nami straightened her back and glanced around the room in search of these gifts.

Enel held a hand out to Ohm. "The first is rather small, but I have no use for it," he said while his priest searched through the contents of a purse on his belt until he found a slender gold coil. He handed it to Enel, who held it out to her in turn. "A farmer's son had gone raiding in Slavic territories without my permission and returned a fortnight ago with his share of the plunder. It was a meager pittance. A few coins and a copper plate." He shrugged. "But, this little treasure was in his mother's hair…" He spun the coil around for her to see the two amber stones set into the gold at the top and bottom of the piece. "It naturally made me think of you. I agreed to spare their son's life in exchange for his hoard, and I promised not to take more than a finger if his mother parted with this."

She wanted nothing more than to snatch the gold from Enel's grasp, but she hesitated and looked to the king as though silently asking for permission. He nodded and held it closer.

"It's beautiful," she said breathlessly once she took it. "I am far from worthy to be receiving such gifts from you."

"No one is, but you are my cousin and future queen. If anyone is deserving of a gift from me, it is you," he assured, much to her surprise. He raised a hand and waved at where McKinley stood guard near the doors. With a nod, McKinley turned to step out of the hall while Enel looked to her with a lazy smile. "I feel the other gift is far more suitable for you. A symbol of a promise I intend to keep."

She cocked her head to the side and glanced toward the door as McKinley reentered with a large grey and brown creature draped over his shoulder. He shifted the carcass and her eyes widened when she caught the great maw of a wolf hanging over his back.

"On our return journey, we caught two people hunting within my forests. Unpermitted. They had injured this beast and were prepared to kill it when I intervened and slew it myself. We will skin it and tan the hide for a new fur shawl or blanket for you. Whichever you desire," Enel said as McKinley brought the creature to her. He draped it over her lap, its lifeless eyes peering up at her. Her heart clenched, her lungs ached for a breath, and she desperately tired to keep her panic at bay as Enel leaned toward her with mirth in his eyes. "The wolf that haunts your dreams – this will be his fate if he comes for you. That I can promise you. He would be wise to bend the knee to me, but I know berserker chieftains can be too prideful for their own good. If he refuses to heed wisdom, I won't just kill him. I will skin him alive and make shoes from the hide so that he may learn how beneath me he is as I drag his life through mud and shit. I will pluck his teeth and eyes out, carve him limb from limb, and feed him to the dogs. He will beg for death once I am done with him."

Fire grew in her chest as she imagined Kid's misery. She could not let him be subjected to that torture and humiliation. She could not let him fall so far that he would ever willingly beg for anything, let alone death. She dug her hands into the wolf's fur as her anger grew. She could not fail him. She could not lose this war.

A touch to her chin forced her to focus on the king as he tilted her face up. His gaze was curious and amused, his head tilted to the side as he looked at her.

"Does that anger you, my lady?" he asked quietly. "Does the thought of your wolf's demise fill you with righteous fury?"

She jerked her face from his grip and glared at him. She could not have him see through her mask so easily. "Of course not," she snapped. "I am only angered at the thought he would be so arrogant as to defy you. Only a reckless fool would think to fight a god. Whatever fate becomes of him is of his own making and rightfully deserved."

Enel sat back in his chair, chuckling. "Good. Good," he praised. "You are a wise woman to understand that. Now, what shall we make of that carcass there?"

Nami looked down at the wolf in her lap and frowned. "A blanket," she decided as she ignored the shiver that ran down her back. "Perhaps the reminder of the security you provide will ease my mind and chase away the wolf in my dreams." She smiled up at him. "I will sleep easier draped in your promise to me."

"So be it. McKinley, see that the fur is prepared hastily," he commanded. "I will not see Nami suffer those dreams any longer."

McKinley pulled the wolf from her lap while she stole one last, lingering stroke of its soft fur. She remembered the fur on Kid's cloak was just as soft, a warm comfort she longed to have once again. It was no lie that the wolf pelt would bring peace to her at night. It would remind her of the security she once had in Kid's hall. In Kid's bed. She would have that back again. No matter what it took, she would find her way back to him.

McKinley left after a short bow to his king, the wolf hanging heavy over his back. Conis appeared with a chair for Nami to sit in and a fresh cup of warm wine that she was quite grateful for then. The numbing tingle of the drink would soothe her heart and chase away her worries, if only for the night. She would play her part as adoring, devoted priestess that night and return to her plot come the morning.

"I trust you took care of those poachers?" Nami asked as she settled beside the fire.

Enel hummed into his cup as he drank deep from his wine. "Of course," he said as he held his empty cup to be filled and leaned his head back to recline in his chair. He was as lazy and at ease as ever. "They broke my laws just by setting foot on my land after their exile. Their attempt at hunting my creatures has assured a harsh judgement from me on the morrow."

"The morrow?" Nami sat straight as she sought to understand what he meant. "You did not execute them on the spot?"

The king laughed. "I thought of it, but I believe their fearless chieftain could do with a reminder of what befalls those who cross to my lands."

"Their chieftain? The other berserker I've heard whispers of?"

"Wiper." Enel nodded. "That is the one. I have two of his people tied to stakes in the square. They will sit there until their trial in the morning." He stretched and yawned and then took a sip of his fresh wine. "If they grovel sufficiently, put on a good show for my forgiveness, I may consider sparing one of their lives. But, their chieftain will have at least one head delivered within a fortnight."

Nami felt a chill in her bones as the king laughed. Whatever else he had to say was lost to her as she thought about this news.

She stood before she could stop herself, drawing Enel's confused gaze to her.

"I wish to see these criminals," she said with all the nobility she could feign while her hands threatened to shake with excitement. "I want to see the fools who dared to break your laws."

Enel's brow rose, but he acquiesced without any question. He stood with a tired groan, placed his hand on the small of her back, and led her outside.

The square was shrouded in swirling, grey wisps of fog as the light rain continued to fall. The drizzle kept others from lingering outside for most of the day, but some had come out of their homes to see who the king had taken hostage. People huddled together in pairs and trios, whispering to each other as they stood as far as they could from the two tied up in the square. As soon as they took notice of the king, the people scattered and returned to their homes, leaving the square to feel colder and drearier than it already was.

Enel's two captives sat in the mud at the base of their stakes, their arms bound above their heads. She stepped away from the king to inspect the pair, stopping first in front of a man dressed in loose, wet rags, lined with frayed and shredded clumps of fur. His clothes may once have been fine, but they had been torn and patched so many times, it was difficult to tell. His head was shaved on the sides, leaving only a thin line of hair to run along the center of his scalp, from forehead to the base of his skull. The brown strands curled in the rain and dripped over his brow where fresh cuts wept and bled into his closed eyes. His face was swollen and bruised, his nose broken and bleeding, his arms and legs cut, and as she circled him, she found his shirt stained with blood from the whippings he had endured.

He was fortunate to be unconscious. The cold rain would see that his wounds stung and prolonged his suffering.

She kept her expression frozen and neutral, pretended the tremor in her hands was merely from the cold as she bundled herself up in her cloak, and walked toward the second captive. She was surprised to find herself staring down at a woman, her long black hair tangled and matted with blood from a wound on her temple. Her purple dress was lined with faded reds, the colorful garment beautiful, albeit old and worn, though had seen less abuse than the man's. Her face was in better shape, as well. Other than the strike to her temple, there was a cut on her lip and nothing more. She had been shown some mercy, though the ropes binding her were tight enough to leave her wrists raw and bloody.

To Nami's further surprise, the woman was awake. She shivered and sniffled and twisted her hands in her bonds, appearing pathetic and weak. But when she turned her gaze up, Nami saw nothing but determination burning in her eyes.

Nami took a step back as she heard others come out from the hall, but she did not take her gaze from the woman. She felt herself drawn tight with anticipation as someone splashed through the muddy square and stopped just beside her. It took every thread of control she had to keep her breathing even, her mask in place.

A warm hand wrapped over her shoulder. A whispered breath fanned over her ear. A deep, rasping Frankish, dark and knowing, said what she could not.

" _I believe these are the pawns you have been searching for."_

And now her plan could truly take shape.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Wow, I'm sorry this took way longer than I anticipated it would take to write. I've been dealing with some sinus issues and a head cold, among other things that have left me feeling exhausted. I'm still trying to overcome it all and reclaim my usual level of motivation and energy, but I'm hoping it'll be better soon._

 _I think the only note I have on this chapter is about Ove's reference to Freyr. There is a story about a group of priests that devoted themselves to Freyr, and sometimes Njord. They dressed and behaved as women and called themselves wives and some would sacrifice themselves to Freyr to be in Alfheim with him, while also bestowing the god's blessings on their family. So, yes, Ove is gay and I will address some aspects of homosexuality in this time period and place in later chapters, though information on this is scant, theoretical, and based on lore and historical accounts written by Christians who did not have a favorable view of homosexuality or transexuality. For instance, the account of Freyr's priests was written by Saxo Grammaticus, a Christian scholar, and was quite scathing of these men who performed 'feminine' acts... But obviously these men were afforded some form of honor within their own societies given their position as priests for Vanir gods._

 _Oh, also, I debated for a long time about using Wiper and the Shandians in this arc. Obviously Enel fits beautifully into Norse mythology because of his connections to Thor, but the Shandians designs are based on the indigenous people in the Americas (that great big swath of land that Enel has foreseen and wants to conquer). So, I wasn't sure how well I could adapt them to this society, but then I remembered that a lot of Norse paganism shares qualities with indigenous faiths. They certainly are not the same, but there are similar traditions in terms of ancestor and nature worship. Also, the Shandians viewed Kashigami, the serpent Nola descended from, as a god (and later Nola, too). In Norse lore, in the battle of Ragnarok, Thor's nemesis is the Midgard serpent, Jormungandr (Loki's son). Thor slays the serpent, but dies after walking nine paces, having been poisoned by Jormungand's venom. So, I find the Shandian's revering a snake and viewing Enel as their ultimate nemesis as a fitting bit of poetry reflective of the lore. Plus, Kid really does need all the allies he can get. And I wanted to use Laki in this somehow, because I wanted more female characters. And I like Laki. So there is that, too. Oh, also, Wiper's epithet is 'Berserker' sooooooo... perfect for this fic._

 _I might keep the next few chapters on the short side, but we'll see. I'm thinking it might help me keep up better with this story if I don't try to write 20,000 word chapters (minimum) every time. Also, I might focus on one point of view, or region, at a time. So, I might focus on Law and Nami's point of view one chapter, then switch to Kid's in the next, and so on. But... I might change my mind as I write, because I do that. Either way, I am going to adjust my routine and approach a bit in the hopes it will push me through the last of my inactivity and get me back on schedule._

 _Thank you for your patience and reviews. I promise I have not forgotten this fic (at least)._


	30. Chapter 30

_Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _First Moves_

Nami had done well to hide her emotions throughout supper. Law watched as she showered the king with attention and false flattery. Her laughter was melodic, her cheeks tinged pink with a blush any time the king complimented her. She took the wine and fruit from the servants to fill his cup and feed him his berries, all while drinking deeply, more than the king and most of the soldiers.

Enel did not appear to question her cheerful demeanor or her fawning. He seemed to revel in her attention, soaked in every kind word and boast, and listened to her recount her activities while he was away as though he were utterly fascinated by them. For a man so arrogant and self-centered that he would call himself a god, he appeared to be genuinely fond of the young woman now in his charge. At the very least, he found her amusing. Perhaps she was a novelty to him. A trinket to entertain and delight.

His bored expression rarely wavered, but Law caught a faint smirk, a short nod, and sometimes he would throw his head back with laughter that echoed throughout the hall. Enel's lack of suspicion toward the woman he took by force, and most of all the mercenary who followed her in the guise of a traitor, left him to wonder if the king's self-proclaimed gifts truly existed. The king seemed suspicious enough of him, viewed him as the agent of a trickster whose motives could never be trusted, but any time Law thought the king might be uncertain of Nami's or Ove's true intentions, Enel brushed off his concerns with an air of stoic apathy.

It may well be hubris that drove him to ignore their potential threats. Law had no doubt that arrogance would be his downfall. He would see to it personally if Nami's wolf failed.

After Enel ate his fill, he decided that he would take a warm bath and retire early. Ohm had left earlier in the evening, but Satori seemed content to linger in the hall with his brothers. Nami said goodnight to the king with a coy flutter of her eyelashes and tired smile, waving him off when he told her to go to bed, too. She argued that she wanted to work for a few more hours and promised that she would go to her chambers shortly.

She waited for Satori to nod off at his table before she vanished into her new workroom with Conis on her heels. She glanced at Law over her shoulder as she left and gave a subtle nod to invite him to join them. He waited a minute to not garner too much suspicion from any servants or guards, then followed Nami to the other room. He spotted Ove hidden in the shadows of the back hall, hunkered down close enough to eavesdrop on any conversation. Ove had disappeared after the king retired, but Law was not surprised to see that he continued to lurk and watch his ward without her taking notice.

He spared a nod to the man as he stepped into Nami's workroom and gently shut the door. He found Nami pacing the room, gnawing on a fingernail, while Conis sat at the table and watched her lady in confusion.

"I have an idea," Nami said in Frankish as soon as she noticed him. "But it will only work for one of them."

"One of them?" Law asked as he eased into a chair beside Conis. "Are you talking about the captives?"

"Of course, I am," Nami huffed. She came to a stop in front of Conis and addressed the handmaid in Norse. "What do you know of this Wiper and his people?"

Conis chewed on her lip and glanced over Nami's shoulder. Her whole expression and posture gave away her fear. "I've told you all that I know. King Enel claimed the land they used for their herds and it angered them."

"You know more," Nami urged. "You must."

Conis shook her head. "They keep to themselves, remain hidden deep in the mountains. If any outsiders near their new territory, they kill them on sight. We know little about them, just that they are angry and want their ancestral lands returned to them."

Nami sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose as she began to pace again. "You mentioned they herd reindeer," she muttered. "So, they are Sami?"

"Yes," Conis answered. "Mountain Sami."

Law did not know much about the Sami people. They were concentrated to the northernmost regions, within the Laplands, and did not often associate with the Nordic people to the south. The Sami on the northern coasts sometimes allied with the Norse jarls and chieftains, paid their taxes in exchange for protection against common enemies, and others traded their furs and hides, but some warred and fought for the territories encroached on by Norse migrants. They had been steadily pushed further north, into the coldest, bleakest lands. This clan was obviously not one that would step aside for the more powerful king, nor would they bow to his rule. They wanted their land and their autonomy, they would settle for nothing less, even if it meant losing their lives.

"They have reason to hate all of us," Nami continued to mutter to herself. "Would she even consider my offer?"

"Offer?" Conis asked, shaking Nami from her thoughts with the question. "What do you mean to offer?"

Nami's expression turned cold and distant as she stared at her handmaid. "Salvation," she said after a long pause. "I mean to offer her mercy, if King Enel will allow it."

"Her?" Law asked. "You only intend to save the woman?"

"I have a credible reason to take her as my servant. Enel knows my family history, he knows how my clan was organized in the past," she explained in Frankish. "I can make an argument based on that knowledge, but it would only pertain to the woman. I do not know how to save the man's life."

"The king has no shortage of slaves," Law suggested. "He has a use for them."

"That is true," Nami agreed. "But the last man he captured from Wiper's clan was put to death. The king does not seem interested in keeping any of these people alive, not even to use them as slaves."

"Then why do you believe he would permit you to keep one of them for yourself?"

"Because I have a use for the woman," Nami said, but did not elaborate on what that use might be.

"What use?" he pressed.

Nami ignored him and continued to pace. He could tell that she wanted to save both captives, the inability to do so left her anxious and stressed.

"Do you need both alive for your plans?" he asked. "Or just the one?"

"I could possibly work with just the one, assuming she is cooperative." Nami frowned. "I doubt she will be. I may not have been in the king's company when he took their land, but I am his priestess now. She will not trust me, and I cannot blame her for that."

"If you have your doubts about her, then what is there to assume that if both live, the truce will be easier to form?"

"If I can convince Enel to spare them both, she may be willing to see reason in the alliance. If I allow her companion to die, though, his blood will be on my hands through my failure to protect him. If I have the power to save her, then I should have the power to save him, at least that is what someone outside of this situation might believe. She does not know the constraints I have to work within to keep the king from doubting my fealty."

"Then make her understand those constraints," he suggested.

"I cannot be open and frank about my motives here," she hissed. "I can only speak openly with you because the king cannot understand this language. Any whispers, any plotting, anything that would give him reason to suspect me – he will hear them, he will know, and he will punish everyone associated with it."

"Then find a way to communicate with her that the king will not understand or hear. She is Sami. Do they not have their own language?"

Nami glowered at him. "They do, but I do not know it. The Sami tribes in Svealand are isolated in the Laplands. I grew up far to the south, in Geatish lands. It is rare for them to travel so far for trade. I had no reason to learn their language."

Law turned to Conis. "What of you? Do you know any of the Sami language?"

Conis stared at him shock. "I know some, but I am hardly fluent. Just enough to barter for a reindeer hide. Why do you need to know their language?" she asked, her attention on Nami.

"They may be more willing to accept Lady Nami's offer if it is given in their native tongue," he explained. "Do you believe they would acknowledge such an offer if it was given with respect?" he asked Nami.

"You have a point," Nami agreed as she sank into thought once again. "But, I would still have to speak with her. If I use someone to translate messages, I would need someone I can trust, someone who won't share whatever I whisper to them. And I'm afraid _he_ will somehow still hear me."

"That will be a risk no matter how you choose to communicate with her," he reminded, though he had his doubts on how strong Enel's foresight was, especially his ability to _hear_. He had spoken with Nezumi at length, though mostly in Frankish, and Enel had not approached him about any of those conversations. Then again, he had been away for weeks, focused on other business. He did not understand how Enel's seidr worked, nor did he understand Nami's, but perhaps there was a limit to how far they could see. "Could you place wards in a home?" he asked. "Those sigils you created for your maps, could you use them to create a barrier or wall to block out Enel's gifts?"

Nami's eyes widened and she spun toward him. "That's it." She laughed and rushed to her worktable to grab the parchment with sigils on it. "The one for my map is crafted to hide it from sight, and specifically that. The king seems to hear things more than he sees them. I had suspected I would need a ward-stave of some sort in my room, but I've had trouble creating one I think would be adequate."

Quill in hand, she drew more sigils, more jagged lines and circles he did not recognize, and then scratched them out. Over and over until finally she stopped and stared at the last sigil on the parchment. "I had thought to use the _algiz_ rune in my stave. It's a protective rune, common in wards and blessings, but none of the sigils felt _right_ as a countermeasure to Enel's magic. His seidr is powerful and different from my own." She looked to him. "He is a son of Thor. He is lightning and thunder, he is a storm personified." Her eyes glowed with realization, with knowledge, as she pointed at her stave. "But Thor was the one who warned me of this storm and path. _Thurisaz_ is the rune that helped me see him in the tree." She was speaking nonsense as far as he was concerned, but the nonsense seemed important to her, so he held his tongue. Seidr was her realm, her world, not one he could ever understand. "The only one strong enough to protect me from Thor is _Thor_. He was the one who warned me, and it is his wife, Sif, that watches me in his stead. I already meant to use the rowan, but I should be able to invoke his power and strength, too. He is an ancestor the king and I share. If he can draw strength from a storm, then so can I."

"If that is so…" he said slowly. He still could not comprehend what she said or meant, but she had a sigil and seemed confident that it would counter Enel's own magic. "But what of the Sami? An offer in her own language is one she would surely trust."

Nami sank back into thought, chewing on her nail as she considered that obstacle. If she could not speak their language, and Conis only knew enough to barter, then they needed to find someone who might speak it more fluently. He glanced to the door and wondered if Ove might know enough to pass along a message. He doubted Nami would know, and even if she did, she would not want to ask that sort of favor from him. Ove might have volunteered to help with her schemes, but she believed that aid to be given unwittingly, not with the knowledge that it was advancing Nami's plans.

"My father…" Conis whispered, once again glancing to the door as though she feared the king would interrupt and bring his wrath down upon them at any moment. She had been silent as he and Nami spoke in Frankish, watching as Nami made her new sigil, listening with no sign of comprehension. But she seemed to sense her lady's distress. "He is capable of talking with the Sami in their language. He might be able to help."

Nami lit up with excitement, gifting her handmaid with a genuine smile Law had only seen brief glimpses of since she arrived. "Truly?" she asked as she rushed to kneel in front of Conis. When Conis nodded, Nami cheered happily and engulfed the woman in a hug. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She pulled back and clasped Conis' hands in hers. "I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to protect you and your father. I will repay you both for the help you've given me. Any favor you need, any gold, _anything_ – just ask it of me, and you will have it."

"And what of the man?" Law asked quietly. "Will you sacrifice him for this opportunity?"

Nami's brightness faded, her eyes turned sullen and distant. Her grip on Conis tightened as she gnawed on her lip. He watched her expression turn cold and hard, a dark ruthlessness overtaking her gaze.

"If his blood must be shed to protect the woman and give life to an alliance that may well save his kin…" She took a deep breath and he knew she did not like the decision she had made, but she had no other option, not without taking on more risk. "An honorable man would understand, would sacrifice himself for the betterment of those he loved." She nodded resolutely and stood straight, her head tilted with stubborn resolve. "I will have the woman for myself, if nothing else."

"Then I wish you success," Law said as he stood and turned for the door. "I will return on the morrow to see if you win this battle."

He hoped that she would. She needed a victory, no matter how small, to fuel the change she sought. Every revolution needed a flicker of hope, the first spark to take the kindling. If she could not win this single piece for her side, then it may be a sign of greater failure to come in her mind. She could not lose here. Not when she had only just begun.

He found Ove hunched in the shadows, so silent and still anyone else might have mistook him for a pile of old furs.

"Do you know the language of the Sami?" he whispered in Frankish to the berserker guardian.

The furs shifted ever so slightly. He glanced down to catch Ove's eye through a sliver of space between the furs he hid himself in. A short nod was the only answer Law needed, and with it, he made his way out of the hall.

He fought back his smile until he passed through the outer gates. His trek through the chilly mist was filled with excitement and anticipation. He could not wait to see the lady at work the next day.

He could feel change in the wind, and Nami would be the driving force behind it.

* * *

"The circles beneath your eyes are terrible this morning," Conis bemoaned as she helped tame Nami's wavy and knotted hair. "Nearly as dark as Corazon's."

Nami could feel the weight of exhaustion beneath her eyes, she did not need to be reminded of it. She had slept fitfully and gave up on finding rest altogether well before dawn. Her dreams had been filled with fog and mist, her way shrouded. She could hear the wolf in his chains but could not see him. Instead she only saw two blue snakes lying limp before her and when she thought to lift one, it lashed out and bit her. She woke from the dream as she watched blood trickle over her hands and the snakes dissolve into ash.

The dark omen of her dream made her fear that her decision was the wrong one, but she would not go back on it. She would take the bite of a snake if it might save one life and be the first step toward winning a war. The path she chose carried risks, she knew that when she made the choice to leave Drafn. She knew it would not be easy, that she would have to carve her own way through the storm. She could not be deterred by her fear. She had to be strong, to carry on alone, to fight for her freedom and the lives that depended on her.

She had to be a warrior dressed in gold. She had to be a queen unlike any before her. She had to endure the weight on her shoulders as though it were nothing more than a feather.

"Find some kohl," Nami ordered as she shut her eyes and focused on the mask she would need that day. If she was to sit with Enel as he passed judgement on his captives, then she could not let the façade slip once. "Ove should have some if no one else does."

"Of course, Lady Nami." Conis finished pinning Nami's braids, the hair intricately woven along the top and sides of her head to coil together in an elaborate nest. The rest of her hair was bound into a long braid that fell along her spine, decorated with thin gold and silver thread that glimmered when candlelight struck it and danced like lightning.

Conis left to search for the kohl Nami would use to line her eyes and hide the exhaustion that ruined her pristine mask. She would sleep well if her day was successful, of that she was certain. She would sleep and dream of her wolf and find a way to reach out to him.

When she shut her eyes, and allowed herself to think of him and nothing else, she could almost feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips and hear his soft growls as he whispered in her ear. If she thought of their absence in the waking world, her heart would ache and tug at her chest, longing to find him. He was so close, only a few hours away by ship, half a day by foot or horse, but he may as well be in another realm to her. He was bound in iron shackles, and she in golden chains. All she had of him were memories and dreams and the hope that she could break them both free someday soon.

A tap on her shoulder snapped her from her wondering thoughts and disjointed dreams. She opened her eyes to find Conis had returned. She held a tin filled with black kohl that Nami recognized as Ove's, but the worry etched into Conis' face was what stole her attention.

"If you are too tired to sit in the king's judgement, perhaps you should rest a day. He may delay it if we ask it of him," Conis suggested.

Nami shook her head in answer, and to clear the last of her heartache, then spared Conis a sliver of a smile. "I will be all right," she reassured. "I do not want to put this off, and I doubt King Enel would appreciate any weakness on my part. If I am to be at his side here, then I will not falter once."

"Are you certain?" Conis whispered. "You seem troubled, like something is weighing on your heart."

 _More than you know_ , Nami thought to herself, but only widened her smile. "Nothing at all. I'm just anxious to meet this woman and claim her for myself."

"And if the king refuses your request?"

"He won't," Nami said with forced certainty. "I will convince him."

Conis did not appear convinced, but she held her tongue and set back to work preparing Nami for the mockery that would serve as a trial.

"We should make more paints for ceremonies," Nami said as Conis lined the kohl around her eyes. "Especially gold. Our king's power lies in the gold he hoards. His priestess should drip with it."

"I will have the women work on it," Conis responded. "It will bring out the amber in your eyes, too. That is where your power lies, does it not?"

She tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out and startled the handmaid. "You are correct," she said. "Amber and gold. My power lies in the treasures I long to possess."

Just as it also lay in the seas and the stars, and in the wind and rain and sun and snow. And in her heart, where she holds to hope, and the smile she swore to never lose, to never have stolen away.

Nami nibbled on a light breakfast while Conis put the finishing touches on her hair. She had chosen to eat in her quarters that morning so she could prepare herself for the judgement. She wanted to make a grand entrance, one that she hoped would enchant the king and make him struggle to refuse her request. Everything had to be just right if she had any chance of deceiving him. She had to use every tool at her disposal to persuade him, even if all she had was her beauty and allure to sway him. It was enough to prove successful in the past. Most men forgot all sense and reason when she set out to seduce them for her own gain.

A servant to the king summoned her to the hall near midday. She had been lounging on a bed of furs in the front room, hard at work on another leather and amber bracelet to pass the time, and rose with all the regality she could find within herself. Judging by the servant's dumbstruck awe, her mask was perfect.

The day was warm, but she chose to wear her cloak to remind Enel of the family she came from, the reason he wanted her in his hall. Her dress was a deep blue, the color of the open ocean, lined with thread as blue as the sky and white as the clouds, and woven into the shapes of dragons and serpents along her sleeves and skirt. A thick leather belt wrapped around her waist and ribs, drawn tight enough to keep her back straight and shoulders rigid in the posture of royalty. The leather was so thick, it could serve as a war belt, a piece of armor to protect her from an attack, and declared whatever authority she had in the king's hall.

She had thought to wear the gold dress Enel had given to her, but she was saving that for another occasion, a bigger favor to request.

The blue dress made the gold she did wear stand out that much more. Her long braid was secured with the gold coil Enel had given her when he returned, while more golden clips and combs were fastened into the nest of braids and curls atop her head. Gold chains wound around her neck like a collar. Strands of gold and pearls fell over her chest. And yet more gold coiled around her wrists and waist. The shackles of her gilded cage were in place, there for Enel to see. If nothing else, he could be certain that his wealth bought her loyalty.

The hall was abuzz with conversation when she walked in. Enel's militia and guards milled around the room, while the nearby landowners, the karls and jarls that pledged fealty to the king, gradually trickled in and gave their greetings to the king and his priests. A hush fell over them as she strode in and she allowed herself to feel arrogant as their eyes drifted to her.

She spotted Law in a far corner, hidden by the shadows of the walkway above. He melted into the darkness with his black clothes and cloak, his arms crossed over his chest and head bowed. She caught the corner of a smirk and the glimmer of a gold eye. It seemed he approved of her guise, but his approval was not what she sought.

Enel reclined in his throne, raised above the four seats of his priests. His gaze remained flat and bored as it swept over the room, not a hint of emotion until it landed on her. His brow rose, his lips curled in a lazy smile, and then he let loose a long, loud laugh that filled the hall.

"I thought you may be plotting something in your room this morning," he declared. Nami stopped in front of his dais and ignored the shiver of fear that trailed down her spine. He could not have seen her plans already. He could not know what she was up to. "You were plotting to steal my men with a display of your beauty."

She nearly sighed in relief, but covered it with a quiet laugh. "Merely displaying the wealth and power of my lord," she said, her tone filled with coy sweetness and false cheer as she bowed to him. "I dress as a queen to serve my king. While you and your priests inspire your people to worship you through fear, I will inspire them to love and praise you for their subjugation. At the very least, I will make them long to be your servants, your faithful flock, in the hopes that you might bestow on them the riches you share with those in your keeping."

Enel laughed again. "I see. I suppose men need more reason than fear to remain loyal, especially the simpler ones who forget to listen to that fear. I appreciate the consideration." He gestured for her to take the seat to his left and waved for the other priests to sit, as well. "Now that I have my counsel present, we can begin the Thing."

Nami had not expected to hear that he was holding an assembly. She thought he only intended to try his captives.

"My landholders were eager to address some issues they had with each other," he explained. "And a ship brought news from the Christian lands."

She took her seat to his left, the chair a step below his throne. Ohm claimed the seat at Enel's right with Satori in the chair beside him, and Ove the seat beside her.

The landowners and minor jarls took benches and chairs nearest the dais, while those of lower rank sat further back, or stood at the wall. Out of the people she recognized from around Oslo, only McKinley and a handful of his militia sat near the front, the rest were allotted space at the back. The visiting landholders took precedence in hospitality, they traveled the farthest, and were fortunate enough to own some wealth and importance to the king. If they were seated far from the king, it would be an insult, though she doubted Enel cared. He would strike down any that took exception to a lack of hospitality. He only kept to decorum to expedite the meeting.

Talk of local matters took precedence. Border disputes. Marital disputes. Fostering requests. Enel listened to them with his usual flat expression, appearing so bored Nami wondered if he listened at all. Each dispute was settled quickly. Enel made his decisions without counsel for most of them. He threatened to claim farms if they continued to bicker, turn the landowners into tenants on his land and force them to pay higher taxes to him. Enel already felt he owned the land, he was merely being generous to those that bowed to his authority by allowing them to claim their ownership.

Marital disputes were waved off if he deemed them petty. He granted one woman a divorce, but made her pay a fine to the husband for ending the marriage without just cause. Nami wanted to argue the judgement, but according to the law, Enel was correct in his ruling. The only reason she wished to end the marriage was because the man had an affair. Nami felt it was reason enough. If a man could divorce his wife for being unfaithful, then a woman should be permitted the same without losing what property she had. But, the laws were written by men, and while she understood them to be better for women than the Christian lands, injustices remained.

A couple wanted to foster their third son in Enel's hall. Enel did not care to take in a child, but after Ohm whispered something in his ear, he allowed McKinley to take the child and foster him in the militia. The parents shared an anxious glance, but did not refuse. Their child would have an advantage over many others, and they would not have to worry about another mouth to feed come the winter. Judging by the woman's swollen belly, their winter stores would be strained.

A second couple was not so fortunate. Their son was frail and quiet, not ideal for a soldier, or a smith, or a boat-builder. Enel decided he would go with the jarl of a small village in the mountains. His decision was made without discussion and the jarl that had been declared guardian did not seem eager to take the boy. Nami was left to wonder how the child would fare. He likely would not survive to the winter, not unless he made himself useful to his keeper.

As Nami watched the children greet their new guardians and say their goodbyes to their families, her thoughts wandered to the children she left behind in Drafn. She wondered how Sind and Ingvild fared. After she left with Ohm and Satori, she had no idea if Heat and the others reached safety. She wanted to believe that they had, but the village had been surrounded, they may have faced more enemies in the forest. If they survived, she had no doubt that Kid and his men would treat them well, but they would bear scars in their hearts after the slaughter they witnessed.

"Bring the captives in," Enel commanded, snapping Nami from her musings. She sat straight in her chair and glanced at the king as he held out a cup for a servant to fill. He glanced sidelong at her and lifted a dark brow in silent question. She answered with a smile that was quickly dismissed. "Eager for my judgement?"

"Curious to hear what excuse they have for trespassing on your lands this time," she insisted. "I am sure it will be as pathetic as they are."

Enel chuckled. "You would be correct," he said as they watched the two captives dragged into the hall. They were hunched and shivering, with dark circles beneath their eyes far worse than Corazon's. They stumbled through the crowded room, their iron shackles ringing with every faltered step. Their guests muttered to themselves as they watched, a few jeered at the prisoners. One grabbed the woman's backside. Nami's glare was ignored as he bellowed with laughter.

 _Pig_ , she thought to herself.

Enel slammed his cup of ale against the arm of his throne to cease the man's laughter and end the crowd's muttering. Silence fell over the hall as the king stood. His stoic expression made fear curdle in her gut, reminding her of the dangers in her plan. She fought the urge to fidget as he stepped forward, dug her nails into the arm of her chair to stop herself from running away like the coward she was.

She could not turn away from her plan now. She needed this pawn.

"I found these two hunting wolves in my forest," Enel declared to the room. "They belong to a tribe I cast from my lands, led by a foolish and feral berserker - the warrior Wiper." The captive man sneered, the woman growled, and Enel laughed at the display. "Kamakiri," he said, turning to the man, "you have been charged with trespassing in sacred forests and poaching. What do you plea?"

"What difference does my plea make?" the man rasped. "We all know you declared me guilty the moment you put me in chains."

Enel's smile was dangerous, crooked and sadistic. "Humor me," he said.

"Innocent," Kamakiri relented.

Enel laughed. "Innocent? Were you not caught by me personally? Did I not find you in my forest? Holding a bow with an arrow stuck in a mangy wolf?"

"I was not hunting the wolf," Kamakiri insisted. "The creature was sick. It was alone and tried to attack us. Its mouth frothed unnaturally when it snarled, and its gait was drunken. It was not healthy, but it would have slaughtered us if I did not put it down first."

"Assuming that story is true…" Enel stepped off the dais and sauntered toward his prisoners. "Then what, pray tell, were you doing in my forest in the first place? If you had remained in the mountains, as you are supposed to do, then you would not have been attacked by the wolf."

Kamakiri pursed his lips and glanced at the woman. Enel's gaze followed his while he slowly circled the pair. Amusement flit over his face as he stopped behind her and leaned over her shoulder.

"He will not answer, then how about you, Laki? I have charged you with trespassing. What reason did you have to be in my territory?" he asked.

"That land is not yours," she whispered. "And even if it was, travelers have a right to pass over it in peace."

"In peace, yes, but the warrior Wiper refuses to broker for peace," Enel mused as he circled back to stand in front of the pair. "If you had claimed you were an envoy for that very purpose, you would not be in fetters right now. I would respect your chieftain's decision to bow down to me, as he should have done from the start."

Laki hissed. "We will never bow to you."

The king chortled. "No, of course not. You and your kin must make your ancestors proud… Or whatever drivel Wiper constantly spews when I evict him from my lands. Now, what reason did you have to enter my territory? Surely you have a reason? I cannot imagine that you were out for a stroll that took you from the mountains."

This time Laki glanced at Kamakiri, as hesitant as he was to answer Enel's question. Nami shifted in her chair as the air grew heavy and uncomfortable with every second of silence that passed.

"McKinley," Enel said as he turned back to his throne. "Put the man on his knees. If they will not answer, then I will declare him guilty of poaching, trespassing, and raiding."

"Raiding?" Laki called out, lunging forward despite her chains. "We did not raid! You would make up charges to punish us?"

McKinley shoved Kamakiri to his knees while Enel sat back in his throne. His bored expression said that he would not answer Laki. He had no reason to. They all knew the judgement he intended to pass.

"The man known as Kamakiri is hereby sentenced to death," Enel said, his gaze fixed on the woman.

Laki panicked as McKinley took Kamakiri by the hair and exposed his throat to the knife he drew. Nami's fingers ached with how tight she gripped the chair. She wanted to end this, but she feared to speak up. She would save the woman. That she could do. But she could not save the man.

"A child," Laki shrieked.

Enel raised a hand to still McKinley. The knife remained at Kamakiri's throat, bobbed as the prisoner swallowed hard.

"We were searching for a child," Laki continued. Her shoulders fell forward and shook with a sob. "My cousin. She loves your trees. She says the soil is rich and warm and full of life. She often disappears to bask in your forests, but she always returns within a fortnight. This time she was gone too long. We feared she had been caught. We came to look for her."

"A child?" Enel glanced at McKinley as he frowned. "No child has been taken captive in recent weeks. Nor have I heard one traipsing through my forests. It is unfortunate that your mistake will cost you your lives."

He nodded at McKinley who tightened his grip on the knife.

"Wait," Nami called out, leaping from her seat. "I want to keep her."

"Nami?" Enel cocked his head as she spun to face him. She curled her fists in determination and grappled for a shred of courage to stand against his ruling. "What foolish plan do you have in mind now?"

"I have no foolish plan. I like the woman. I want to keep her," she explained. Enel's brow rose as he drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. His patience was limited. She would be wise not to press him, but she could not turn back. She swallowed down the pain in her chest and went to her knee with her head bowed. "I wish to have her for…" She took a deep breath and dared to glance up at the king's bored gaze. "For a slave."

Enel stared in silence. She could feel the gaze of the others in the hall on her back. They were all heavy, foreboding weights, warning her against this request. She bowed her head again and prayed that he would not refuse.

His short laugh made her flinch. The others began to quietly chuckle, but immediately silenced themselves when the king stood.

"A slave?" he asked as he sauntered toward her.

She gave a short nod and swallowed again as the heavy weight returned to her back. Her hands trembled beyond her control as he lowered himself in front of her. She clenched her skirts tight when he gripped her chin, lifting her gaze back to his.

"Why?" he asked. "What purpose could you have for her?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, you are aware of my family and their traditions," she began at a whisper. "Men were shunned from the immediate family. But, we are daughters of the Vanir, and Freyja and Hnoss, and there is much magic to be found in… certain rituals… to connect us to the gods."

Enel's head cocked once more, urging her to elaborate in greater detail.

"I have…" She leaned in closer as her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "I have learned first-hand how strong seidr can be when… when fueled by lust." His brows shot up in surprise. "I saw you," she rushed to explain. "I was told of your coming while I was…" She looked away bashfully.

"In bed with your wolf," he finished for her.

Her throat tightened as she gave a nod. "That vision was what inspired me to drive him away from his hall."

"To save his life?" he asked.

 _Yes,_ she thought, but she shook her head and smiled for Enel. "No. I wanted him to leave because I feared what he would do when I chose you."

"You ran at first," he pointed out.

"Because his people forced me to. When the battle was obviously lost, I made my decision; and with so many dead and dying, they could not argue with it. I intended to go with you from the start," she explained.

"Her possessions were packed," Ohm reminded, and she thanked the gods for it.

"I knew I would have to leave. I knew that my place was with you," she urged, daring to reach out and grab his arm as she pled for him to believe her. "I knew that it was my fate to be in your hall, by your side. Since I have made that decision, I am determined to do everything in my power to aid you."

"And taking this woman as a bed slave will do that?"

"I mean to refuse all men. My family is cursed because no man is worthy of us, of our magic, and I see that now. I will not allow my curse to be a burden to you, but I do have a means to make it benefit you. I will rekindle the old ways of my family. I will use her, and any other women I desire to take into my bed, to fuel my sight in rituals. That is how the women of my family strengthened their magic for generations without the aid of men. That is how they learned and prepared. Between everything you have taught me, and will continue to teach me, and all that I can learn from my ancestors, I will be stronger than any volva before me."

"And you will reject all men? Even your wolf should he come for you?"

She nodded, then pursed her lips in thought. "Well, perhaps not _all_ men," she whispered to him as she took on a mask of coy innocence. "If it were you, I might break that vow. Of all the men I know, you are the only one I believe could be worthy. But… you are a god, a true god, and I will never be worthy of you. So, I will abstain from all desire for men, until the day I might prove myself worthy to you."

Enel threw his head back with laughter. "How amusing," he called out. "All right. I shall grant you this woman as your slave."

"You will?" she gasped. At his short nod, she lurched forward as though she meant to hug him in her glee, but held herself back as she gripped his arm tight and bowed her head. "Thank you. Thank you. I am forever indebted to you for your generosity, my king."

Enel chuckled as he pried her fingers from his arm and stroked her hair. "You will inform me of every vision you have with her," he instructed.

"Of course," she promised.

A bark of laughter from Ove broke into their conversation. Enel looked at the mercenary with a deep frown. "Do you find amusement in something?"

"I do," Ove answered. "If you are handing out slaves, then give me the other one. I may not have rituals and witchcraft as an excuse to use him, but I can use him, just the same."

"The same?" Enel's brow arched high on his forehead.

Ove chuckled. " _The same_. I am certain I will grow bored with him quick enough. When I am done with him, I will see that he's returned to his chieftain, short a head and some testes, and _well used_."

The king laughed again. "So be it. I suppose I will be generous with my new priests today." He sauntered back to his throne and collapsed in his seat, waving for Nami to return to her chair by his side. "I will temporarily stay their executions, but declare them bondsmen to my priests. They are hereby stripped of their freedom and rights. You two may do with them whatever you will and kill them when you desire it. Inform me when you are done with them."

"Yes, King Enel," Nami agreed, unable to keep herself from smiling. She had saved the woman for herself. The man was alive, too, though she pitied his fate as Ove's slave. But at least he was alive. The living can do more than the dead.

"Take them from my sight," Enel commanded. "We have one more item of business to discuss." He looked toward her and reached over to nudge her hand. "This will be of importance to you."

"To me?"

Enel hummed and patted her hand. "You will see."

Those ominous words filled her with dread. If it was of importance to her, it was likely related to Kid. Or perhaps it had to do with Arlong. If he meant to go to war with her former jarl, she would rejoice, but if it was his war with Kid he meant to discuss… She feared that all her preparations would be for naught.

Kamakiri and Laki were dragged from the hall. The woman struggled in her bonds and seethed, the man was still too weak from his wounds to do more than jerk at his chains once. They were not happy with their fates, but she would make them see reason. At least Laki. The other just had to hold on to his life long enough for Nami to find some way to free him from Ove. There was a glimmer of hope there for him, even if his enslavement would leave him sullied and dishonored.

No matter how dark life became, a person always had to keep looking forward, and fight to survive. For as long as breath remained in their lungs, happier times would come.

A man stepped forward once the captives were out of the hall. He had long black hair and a bushy beard to match, and was dressed in plain blue tunic and beige trousers. He took a knee before the king, placed a hand over his heart, and bowed his head. Two more men nearly identical to him took to their knees behind him.

"My lord, I bring news from the south," he informed.

"Lady Nami," Enel said, waving toward the trio before them, "these men are clergymen from the Birka region. Their families have been employed by mine for generations."

"Clergymen from Birka? So, they are Christians?" she asked, scrutinizing their attire once more. At a closer look, she took notice of the leather pouches attached to their belts. Each bore a cross stitched in gold thread on the front flap. "I thought you disliked Christians?" she whispered.

Enel leaned toward her and took her hand. "I distrust them. As you should, too. Our shared ancestor tried to drive them from Svealand because he saw that they would become a threat to your family and their ways. As it turns out, he was correct. Your Frankish father and his Christian mercenaries took away your family, the life you should have known." He turned back to the three clergymen and waved his hand over them with a hearty laugh. "But these three are not the same as the Christians from the south. They are wise and understand the importance of the old ways, as well as the new; just as they understand that soon they will be in servitude of a far greater god. I have received great counsel from these sages. And their pious, Christian demeanor is of value to me as my ears and eyes in lands my sight cannot reach."

"They are your spies?" she asked.

"That they are. They move among the converted Danes without any notice. They listen and watch and return with news. I sent them to Denmark the day I learned your wolf had fled Drafn before my attack. They returned just this morning. I suspect with news that your wolf has returned to his den. Is that so, Gode?"

"It is," said the man who approached first. "He was in Hedeby for just over a week. He was guest in Earl Bonney's hall, but as he left, we heard the clang of fetters. He left as a prisoner, of a sort."

"Just as I heard," Enel mused. He glanced at her and smiled. "You are not the only one who has heard his whimpering at the roots of the great tree. I heard his great howl when he returned, and I hear the clatter of his chains. He is bound from you. The gods will not permit him to fetch you."

She was afraid that he might see as she had. If he heard the wolf at the base of Yggdrasil, then what else did he hear in those boughs? Did he hear her conversation with Loki?

"And what of old Birka and Sigtuna?" he asked, turning his attention back to Gode. "Did you visit as I requested?"

"We did. That was what delayed our return."

"And what news from our cousins there?"

Gode cleared his throat. "They are far from Tingstad, out of Jarl Arlong's reach, but it seems the Jarl has grown restless as of late. He and his closest brethren have begun to roam east in search of Lady Nami."

Nami gasped. "I am sorry, did you just say _Arlong_ had gone east to search for me? He is not in Tingstad?"

Gode shook his head. "Many farmers northeast of his territory had their lands seized, some burned. There have been few survivors in his wrath. Only the wealthiest have been spared, but they had to forfeit their hoards and cattle to his invaders. The survivors have fled to the church for protection. Others mean to go further north, to the temple in Uppsala. They pray to the Christian God in Sigtuna for protection, and to Freyr in Uppsala for peace."

"What does their king say of this?" Enel asked.

Gode bowed his head in sorrow. "In the past, he has been a noble ally to the farmers against the jarl class in Svealand, but his influence and favor with the farmers has waned of late, and he does not seem eager for civil war. He has had his sights set on the Danes for too long to be concerned with Jarl Arlong's tantrum."

"So, Arlong will be allowed to raid the free lands at his leisure as he searches for you," Enel hummed.

Nami was happy to hear that he was not in Tingstad. That meant the people would have a respite from his wrath. "What of his brethren?" she asked. "You said his brethren have been searching, as well. Who?"

Gode's brows furrowed in thought. "Kuroobi was the name I heard most."

She could not restrain her relieved laugh and quickly covered her mouth to hide her smile. Without Kuroobi there, then Tingstad truly would see peace for a time. If Hachi was left behind to keep order and protect Arlong's interests, he would not terrorize the people, at least not to the extent Kuroobi would. She pitied those left in Arlong's wake, but Tingstad had suffered for eight years under him. They did not deserve to suffer his wrath any longer. He would return soon, of course, but his time away would let them catch their breath.

Perhaps his search will take him further east. Perhaps he will venture into the king's territories and become a viable threat to him. He may be forced to war with the jarl and Nami hoped he would be victorious, that he would rid Arlong from the world and end her nightmares for good.

"That news pleases you?" Enel asked, a thread of mirth lacing his voice.

She turned to him with a genuine grin. She could not contain her hope and happiness. "Tingstad deserves freedom from his wrath. I pity the others, but…"

"You hope Arlong's demise comes from this search?"

She nodded. "I know it is a distant hope, but it is all I have. For the time that he is away, my people can know peace."

Enel gazed up at the ceiling and hummed. "I have had no visions of this giant you fear. All my visions are plagued by your wolf. He is not fated to be an enemy to me. I cannot see what is to come for him, either. Let us hope that means the Svear king will eventually save me the trouble of destroying this man for you."

She wanted more than anything to hope for that outcome. If Arlong returned to Tingstad, brought his anger down on the people, she may be forced to return. Only her presence would bring peace back to the village under Arlong's rule. She would contemplate returning sooner to save the others that endured the terror of his rage, but she knew that she could not escape Enel, not yet. For now, she would be relieved that Nojiko was safe, if no one else.

"I will have you return to Svealand after you have rested, Gode," Enel decided. "If Jarl Arlong turns back for Noreg, I want to be the first to hear about it. Without any word from his agents, he may well think to visit me in person… Once he has cooled his temper and considered his options with a level-head. In the meantime, we will let him run wild through Svealand. It will keep him out of my way here."

"Yes, King Enel." Gode bowed his head. "And what of Drafn?"

"McKinley," Enel called to the militia captain. "I believe it is time we learn what Jarl Eustass has decided. Will he bend his knee and pay his taxes to me, or will he go to war?" The king's crooked, arrogant smile told her that he knew the answer well enough. "Gather twenty of your strongest men and take a ship to Drafn. Lay out the terms of taxation to the jarl as we discussed last night. Inform him of the consequences if he refuses."

"The consequences?" Nami asked.

"War, of course," Enel answered flatly. "I will see that there are no survivors this time." To McKinley he said, "As a show of force, take his cousin's head. I have no doubt the one known as Killer survived. Change that, and put the true fear of God in Jarl Eustass' heart."

McKinley stood straight, slammed a fist to his chest, and bowed his head to the king. "As you wish, King Enel."

"I want you gone by the morning," Enel added. "I will not waste another second dealing with him." He waved for his captain to leave and turned to the remainder of the audience. "The rest of you are dismissed. Gode – stay and talk with me for a minute." As the karls and farmers made their way from the hall, Ohm and Satori stood to leave, as well. Nami took that to mean she was dismissed with the rest and began to stand, but Enel snatched her wrist and tugged her back into her chair. "You stay, as well," he commanded, then glanced over her shoulder at Ove. "See to your new slave."

Ove cast her a quick glance. She wondered what he might be thinking, but he remained silent, save for a grunt, and stood to leave with the others. She saw Law slip out behind him. She hoped he stayed close. He had promised that he would stay close.

"Conis," Nami called to her handmaid when she saw her heading toward the back rooms of the hall. "Could you see to Laki for me? Do not unchain her yet, but assess her condition. We may need Corazon to treat her before I can put her to work. And see that she bathes. I do not want an unwashed woman in my bed."

Confusion and wariness flit over Conis' face. She wrung her hands together in front of her as though worried. After a moment, she cleared her throat, nodded her understanding, and then hurried out to the square.

"My king," Gode began once the room was empty. He sounded as nervous as her handmaid appeared. Were they in danger of Enel's wrath? "What did you wish to discuss?"

"A moment," Enel said, a hand held up to his spy as he turned to face Nami. "Are you worried for the people in Drafn, Nami?"

She was more than worried. She was terrified that the path she took had guaranteed a bleak fate for them. She hoped that she would find victory, but there was an inkling of doubt that nagged at her thoughts any time she wondered about Enel's plans. Now that he had made his next move, that terror and doubt had become very real. Her stomach curled in a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She hoped Kid was smart, did not push for a war too soon. He was not ready for one. His men needed to heal. He needed to secure alliances, gather more warriors to replace those he lost. He needed a true army to face Enel and she knew he was far from having the numbers and power necessary.

She dug her fingers into her skirts and forced a smile. "I worry that Kid will fail to see reason and sacrifice his people to a senseless slaughter. He is a prideful man. He will not bow to you so easily. I chose to go with you to give them a chance for peace, to spare the lives of his friends and kin. If he refuses you as his rightful ruler, then I will be furious that he threw my gesture in the mud. It will be as though he spat in my face and pissed on the graves of the good people who lost their lives believing that they fought to protect me."

Mirth shone in his eyes as he turned back to Gode. "What do you believe will happen to McKinley and his men in Drafn?"

Gode took on a pensive expression. His gaze cast to her for a moment. "I hear this man has a strong interest in Lady Nami. And I have heard the tales of the curse that befell her family. If Jarl Arlong's behavior is any indication, I believe those tales to hold a modicum of truth. Arlong has gone mad with rage since he was separated from his ward. I have no doubt Jarl Eustass will be the same. At least half of McKinley's men will not return from this meeting. And those that do will be heavily wounded."

Enel chuckled at the assessment. "Not bad. Do you wish to hear my prediction, Nami?"

Did she? Hearing Gode's estimate was a ray of hope. Would Enel contradict it? She knew that Kid would not agree to subjugation and taxation, and he would be furious that she had left. She had no doubt that some of those men would die in Drafn. How many? That she could not be certain of. Would McKinley and his men be strong enough to carry out Enel's execution order before Kid killed them? Did Enel spare Killer's life knowing that he would be able to take it at this juncture?

A knot formed in her chest as she looked at Enel's expectant gaze. His brow rose when she gave no answer. She could not find her voice to respond. Her throat was too tight to breathe.

Enel sighed and turned to Gode. "Killer is weak. He will die easily, but they will need to get passed the wolf first." His lips curled in a malicious smile. "Twenty-one will leave here on the morrow. Five will return late in the evening."

"Five?" Nami gasped.

"Yes, only five," Enel said without inflection.

He did not care that he would lose those men to Kid's anger. Nami knew that she should care. She should feel remorse that those men would die because of her. But all she felt was relief.

"The cousin you had me spare before, will be spared again," he added.

She let out a long breath, a mixture of surprise and relief. "You will send your men to their deaths? You do not care that Kid will slaughter them all?" she asked as her shock overcame her relief.

"They are my guards. It is their duty to die for me," he explained. "They have been most loyal since I seized the throne from their old king. I have faith that they will fight and die honorably, knowing that they die for me. It is a necessary sacrifice to protect the future I have seen."

How many more people was he willing to sacrifice for his plans? How many more would die because she was there?

"Does that upset you?" Enel asked, his head cocked as he observed her reaction.

She forced a smile. "As you said, it is their duty. I will pray that the gods welcome them to their halls with open arms."

The king's laughter should ease her fears around him. She should feel relieved knowing that she had fooled him into believing her yet again. But his laughter only made her shoulders tense and stomach knot with fear. She wanted out of that hall and far away from him before she learned who else he would sacrifice to his cause. His hand gripped hers painfully tight, forcing her to remain as he continued to laugh.

"Was that so amusing?" she asked, her voice as soft as a mouse. His laughter began to subside and his hold on her hand loosened. She didn't dare snatch it away, not yet. He may see it as an insult. Though, he may not. He wanted her to fear him, and she did.

"Those gods and their halls will soon be no more," he said. "When I rise as a true god, above the filth in these lands, the old gods and their ways will cease to be. I will raze their halls and memories myself, if I must. But certainly, pray to them for the dutiful souls who fight and die for me. It will not matter, but it may be of comfort as they lay bleeding out in the mud."

Bile rose in her throat at the thought that these men would die for a man who would not mourn them. Enel did not even care enough to avenge their deaths. He would war with Kid and mean to defeat him, but that was for his own purposes, nothing more. He would step on the corpses of his people to achieve what he must. Their lives and their deaths held no more meaning to him than their use as stepping stones.

"Go see to your slave," Enel ordered, waving for her to leave. "I wish you luck breaking her in, but you may need to sleep with a knife in your hand until you have lost interest in her."

"I will keep that in mind," she whispered as she stood.

She had already planned to sleep with a weapon and possibly restrain Laki during the night, unless she saw reason in Nami's offer. But even if she agreed to the arrangement, Nami knew better than to trust her too easily. If she were in Laki's shoes, she would play the part of willing servant and then slit the throat of her captor the first second their guard lowered. She had dreamed of doing that very thing for years with Arlong and she was currently plotting Enel's demise. Laki seemed angry and scared enough to lash out at anyone she deemed a threat to her freedom. She would be dangerous and unpredictable.

Villagers milled around the square as Nami walked out. The people whispered to each other as they stared at the captives that should have been executed that day. She ignored the murmurs, the rumors that would flourish. They could not believe that Enel was softening. A life of enslavement was no better than death, and what Ove meant to do to his new slave would be worse than death. But they would wonder why he listened to her request at all. They were his captives and he killed all trespassers in his forest, especially those from the mountain tribes. They might fear for themselves, that the next law they broke would not end with a fine or lashing or dismemberment, but instead with a life that put them lower than a rat. People could do whatever they wanted with their slaves. Beat them, rape them, torture them, kill them in cold blood. They needed no justification for their actions.

The people would believe Nami to be as cruel as their king for taking a woman as her slave. That suited her fine, for now. If rumors swirled that she was cold-hearted and ruthless, then Enel would not grow curious of her intentions.

"You cannot do this to us," Laki hissed to Conis.

Kamakiri stood beside her, his face gripped in Ove's large hand while the priest attempted to pry open his mouth to examine his teeth, as though he were livestock up for auction. They remained in their chains, but were no longer bound to their stakes. Guards surrounded them with spears in hand to deter them from fleeing, but Nami doubted they were stupid enough to try.

Conis grimaced at Laki's ire, held her hands up as though she intended to calm, but her eyes flit about nervously and she kept her mouth shut. She knew there was nothing she could say to Laki to ease her concerns. Not there, anyway.

Law stood nearby, huddled in his black cloak and hood. She caught his faint smile. He seemed far too amused with the show, but his sadism suited her, too. Her alliance with an outsider, an exile from another kingdom, would have more fear her if only because of her association with a murderer.

"The key for their shackles," Nami ordered, a hand held out to the nearest guard.

"Lady Nami, I do not think that wise," he said.

"How are they supposed to do their duties with those chains?" she asked. "Ove might be particular to seeing his slave in chains. I do not know his preferences. But I want mine out of her fetters."

"But…"

"If she runs, you have my leave to put an arrow in her," she said flatly. "Just try to aim for a leg. I still want her alive. You can cut the tendons in her ankles to keep her from fleeing again."

Laki stared at her in horror, an expression mirrored by Conis and the other people of the village. Nami's threat made bile rise in her own stomach, and she had to cross her arms over her chest to hide how her hands shook. She hoped the woman did not run. She did not want to see the guards make good on her threat.

"Corazon, I want you examine her, thoroughly," she said as the guard opened Laki's shackles and unwound her chains. "I cannot have an ill woman in my bed."

He glared from the shadows of his hood at the command, but nodded in agreement to keep with the farce.

"Mine, as well," Ove spoke up, releasing Kamakiri's face with a shove. He grinned wickedly at his new slave. "I like my men prettier than this, but if you can treat the wounds on his back so I do not have to stare at seeping puss or scars, I will be content."

She sneered at his rumbling laugh. He was enjoying this far too much. She pitied Kamakiri's fate, but she had no power to change it.

"I have everything I need at my home," Corazon said as he turned to walk away. "I will examine both there."

He would examine Kamakiri there, but not Laki. If she said otherwise while in front of Enel's hall and guards, that might raise suspicions, so she held her tongue as she snatched Laki by the arm to drag her through town to the peninsula. Ove did the same with Kamakiri once his slave was free of his fetters. He had not needed to give a warning to keep his slave from fleeing. The axe he bore was warning enough, and Kamakiri was too weak to have any hope at getting far if he ran.

Laki jerked at her grip and Nami glared over her shoulder, but paused when she noticed the guards following. "We do not need your escort," she called back to them.

"If they attack you and attempt to flee…" one began to say.

"Then Ove will take care of it," she said. "Or do you believe he is incapable of killing two malnourished slaves hobbled by injuries?"

He opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut when Ove snarled. His skin turned pale and he took a step away from them. The other guard cleared his throat. "We mean no insult," he muttered. "Of course, you are safe with one of the king's priests."

"I would be safe without," she said, sparing them a wave over her shoulder as she tugged Laki along once more. "I am not so weak," she called back. "If you do not believe me, I will use you both to practice my spear work when Enel trains me next."

She did not bother to see what reaction that garnered from them. She heard Ove snort his own amusement. It must be a sight that he would enjoy seeing, though she doubted he would hope for her victory. Not long ago, he might have rooted for her in a battle, but that time was gone.

Laki gave up her struggles by the time they reached the edge of the village, but Nami did not loosen her grip. She knew the woman would take advantage if she lowered her guard. With the militia far behind them, she might think to have a chance at escape. Ove would catch her in an instant, if he was so inclined, and Nami was just as capable of chasing down a fleeing slave. It was a foolish hope, but if Nami were in her position, she might hope the same.

Pagaya's home was closer, so when the path they took forked in two different directions, Nami turned away from Law's.

"I do not want that rat looking upon her while you examine her, Corazon," she explained.

Law paused where the paths branched, but Ove continued toward Law's home. "The other one's wounds are more severe," he said as he waved her off toward Pagaya's. "I will see to him first and meet you after."

She was fortunate Ove did not question her desire for privacy. He did not seem to care one whit about her intentions.

She watched the men walk away until they disappeared around a bend, and then jerked on Laki's arm to continue toward Pagaya's. Her captive planted her feet and refused to move.

"What do you think you are doing?" Nami asked. "We do not have time for you to fight me here."

Laki narrowed her eyes on her but said nothing, so Nami gave another sharp tug and forced her to stumble along.

"Why did you claim me as your slave?" Laki finally asked as the house appeared through the trees. "Why not let me die? Why torture me with this fate?"

"I have my reasons," she answered cryptically.

Conis hurried ahead to announce their arrival to her father. She had been silent the whole time, nervously wringing her hands and searching the woods around them. She was uneasy with Nami's plans. It made sense for her to be worried, especially with how little Nami was willing to tell her. The less Conis knew, the better, though that would change very soon.

Nami invited herself into Pagaya's home and found father and daughter huddled together, whispering to each other. Pagaya had a kettle of stew over the fire that filled the small home with the scent of buttery broth and vegetables. A loaf of hard, brown bread sat on the table, a knife and cup of butter beside it, and a pitcher of goat's milk nearby. They were interrupting his evening meal, but he could eat as they spoke.

"Lady Nami," Pagaya greeted as soon as he noticed her. "Conis says you need me to translate something for this new slave of yours?"

Laki twisted her arm in another futile attempt at escape. "I do not understand what you are up to," she hissed. "I speak your language. Why do you need a translator? I thought you were only treating my wounds."

"She is wounded?" Pagaya exclaimed as he came closer to inspect her. He squinted in the dim light provided by the fire. "Ah, the woman in the square. Sit. Sit. Will Corazon be treating her?"

"After he has finished with her companion," Nami explained as she shoved Laki down into a chair by the table. "Ove has taken him as a slave, too. Conis – shut and bar the door, and carve that sigil I showed you into the wood. Stand guard there for the time being."

"Yes." Conis nodded and rushed to follow her orders.

Pagaya hummed as he fingered his beard. He canted his head and examined Laki who sat there glaring at them. Nami thought she saw a flash of fear in her eyes, but it was hard to tell with the flickering flame in the hearth.

The long, pained gurgle from the woman's stomach was far more obvious.

"Do you have stew and bread to spare?" Nami asked. "I apologize that we have interrupted your meal, and now I am asking you to share, but I doubt the king bothered to feed her since he took her captive. Not if he intended to put her to death."

"I have plenty. Will you have a bowl, too?"

Nami shook her head. "I will eat supper with the king when we are finished here. Conis may eat with you once I am certain my slave will not attempt to flee."

Pagaya took two more bowls and cups from a chest beside the fire. As he ladled out a helping of stew, Nami took one of the cups to fill with milk and hold out to Laki.

"Will you answer my questions or not?" Laki snapped. "Why am I here?"

"Eat first," Nami commanded as she sat across from her. "I do not want your stomach interrupting our business."

Laki's lip curled, but her stomach growled in protest of her defiance. She needed the food if she was to think clearly, and the generosity might go a long way in persuading her. Nami knew she saw reason as she slumped over and accepted the bowl of stew without further argument. Nami nodded at Conis to join them, gesturing that she take the seat beside Laki; it would appear that she meant for Conis to guard Laki, but Nami merely needed Pagaya close by to whisper to him. She was still not certain what Enel could hear there.

Nami watched as the three ate in silence. Laki had been slow to take her first taste of the stew, waiting for Conis to sip at her broth first. She remained wary as she spooned out a chunk of cabbage, chewed carefully as she glanced around the room. Once she found a generous bite of fish in her stew, she devoured her meal like the starved woman she was. Pagaya served her a second bowl, urged her to have an extra helping of bread, and Conis poured another cup of milk after Laki guzzled the first down.

"You will eat better than that in my care," Nami said while Laki began to eat her second bowl. She glanced up, brows furrowed in confusion. "You will need the strength."

Laki's brow lifted. "For my duties in your bed?"

Pagaya choked on his stew in alarm. Nami ignored his blustering as she stared hard at Laki.

"For the storm that is building on the horizon," she explained. "I spared you because I need you."

"To strengthen your magic, as you told Enel?"

Nami turned to Pagaya and waved him closer. He cleared his throat as he leaned in and listened to her whisper, "To provide allies to a wolf in Drafn."

Pagaya jerked away, eyes wide in disbelief. Nami pointed to Laki, encouraging him to translate. He cleared his throat again, his beard twitched with a frown, and then he stammered out foreign words only Laki should know.

"Allies? A wolf… I do not understand?" Laki glanced between them.

Nami whispered to Pagaya. "I offer you my allegiance. All I need to know is the location of your chieftain."

Pagaya's translation shocked Laki. Her brows rose, jaw dropped, and then she shoved from her chair with an alarmed shout. "I will not tell you where the tribe is," she yelled.

Nami glared as Conis jumped up to block the woman's escape.

"You would be wise not to speak so openly," Nami warned while Conis held her hands up in some attempt to ease the other woman's temper. "I do not know who may be listening."

"Why would I tell you where we have settled? What is this alliance you seek?" Laki continued.

"Sit down and be quiet," Nami growled, pointing at the chair in front of her. "You invite danger with your shouting."

"Explain yourself!"

Nami stood and slammed her hands onto the table. Her temper was on razor's edge as she felt fear prickle at the back of her neck. If Laki continued to argue, they were liable to be heard, sigil or not.

"The child you seek, do you wish to find her?" she asked, her tone sharp as a whip.

"Do you know where she is?" Laki asked, distracted from her tirade. The child was truly important to her. She was her priority.

Nami sighed and forced herself to soften. Arrogance and coldness would not win her any friends. Laki needed to know that she sympathized.

"I do not," she whispered. "But I will do what I can to help you find her."

Laki's shoulders relaxed as she began to calm. "And in return…"

Nami pressed a finger to her own lips, signaling that she not finish that thought. "You will teach me your language. Enough to communicate with you privately without a translator. I will explain more myself when I am able, but if you say anything else of this offer I have extended, it may court trouble for all of us."

Laki slumped back into her chair and Nami lowered into hers. "What…" Laki looked toward Pagaya, pursed her lips, and then continued in her Sami tongue for Pagaya to translate. "What does this wolf need allies for?"

"War," Nami answered.

"Against?" she asked.

Nami said nothing, but she could see realization dawn on Laki with every second she remained silence. Even she knew it was suicide to speak openly of war against the king while so close to his hall.

"What of Kamakiri? Is that bear making him the same offer?" Laki asked at a whisper so full of hope, Nami's heart ached at the answer she would have to give.

"He is fortunate to be alive," she said through Pagaya. "I will do what I can to help him, but…"

She did not say anything more, but Laki understood well enough. She placed a hand over her mouth and stifled a sob.

"But Aisa… You will help me find her?" she struggled to ask. "You will help me find my cousin?"

At Nami's nod, Laki cleared her throat and wiped at a tear. She sat straight, raised her chin, and gave a short nod in return.

"I will teach you our language," she said, shoring up the strength she had. "And you will explain this all to me yourself. Fully. I want your secrets if I am to share mine."

"Then you will teach Conis, as well," Nami said. "I want no more secrets with her, either. She deserves to know the truth of what I mean to do here."

Laki nodded and held out her hand. "Then we are in agreement. I will teach you my language, and in time, I will share what I can."

Nami took her hand and smiled in relief. "Let us hope I am a quick learner. I doubt we have long before the storm strikes… Before the first harvest, there will be war."

* * *

The rat moaned and struggled in his cage as Law watched the two men speak in a language that may as well be gibberish to his ears. He kicked the cage he leaned against and hissed for his prisoner to be quiet. He may not be able to understand the words, but he could may astute guesses from their tone and gestures.

Ove had begun the conversation at a low rumbling growl. It had since escalated into sharp words, hands flying as they argued. He hoped Nami was having better luck communicating with her new slave.

Ove said something that made Kamakiri fall silent, shock written all over his face. The bear pointed toward the door and Law heard Nami's name. He punched a finger into Kamakiri's chest with enough force to make him stumble back, and growled what Law assumed was a low threat.

The rat whined. The cage door rattled.

"Shh," Law hissed with another kick. It was a good thing he had not cut the sutures on Nezumi's lips. The man would not cease his whining then. "I will feed you once they are gone," he whispered. "Sit and wait."

Nezumi huffed and slumped over in defeat.

The conversation fell silent as the two men stared at each other. One in thought, the other waiting.

Kamakiri glanced to the door, pursed his lips. He asked something, his tone quieter. Ove grunted and gave a short nod. Kamakiri scrubbed a hand over his face as he released a long sigh. The tension in the air was palpable, but the moment he dropped his hand and held it out to Ove, it vanished.

Ove grinned, truly grinned, as he clasped Kamakiri's hand and jerked him into a hug. It was the happiest he had seen the man since meeting him. His warm, jovial laugh was infectious and brought a wary smile to Kamakiri's face. Even Law felt himself grin.

"Does this mean I can finally treat his wounds?" Law asked when Ove broke the hug with a hard pat on his new ally's shoulder.

"Yes. Treat them well. I do not want any of them to fester. He will need his strength and soon," Ove said in Frankish.

His grin vanished, but his eyes were as bright and alive as ever. He had helped his lady secure an ally, without her even knowing it. Even if she failed to persuade Laki, she would have the information she needed out of Kamakiri. His jarl will surely be proud of all that he has done for Nami.

As Law helped cut away Kamakiri's tattered and bloodstained tunic, Ove threw himself into a chair and reclined back, proud and at ease. He seemed entirely too content, too pleased with the day. Certainly, he had Kamakiri's allegiance, which should secure the Sami tribe to his jarl's side, but Law could not understand why he was so excited.

And then he remembered Enel's earlier orders.

"What will happen to McKinley and his men?" he asked in Frankish as he set to work on Kamakiri's shredded back.

Ove's grin returned – wide and bloodthirsty.

"He will only allow enough to live to convey his intentions clearly," Ove said. "If the gods are with them, a handful may return to die at their king's feet after delivering Jarl Eustass' message."

"And what message will that be?"

Ove laughed. Law paused in his work to regard his feral, madden expression. He waited until the man growled an answer he had not expected.

" _A king kneels only for his queen."_

* * *

 _ **A/N:** As I said, I am going to attempt to keep these chapters shorter to keep to a more consistent schedule. It'll also build suspense._

 _Some notes - a reviewer had mentioned making the Shandians into Sami people, and that was actually my intention from the start. I had mentioned a few chapters back, when Conis and Nami spoke about them, that they herded reindeer. Husbandry is a major part of Sami life in some areas._

 _I will warn that my representation of the Sami will not be perfect because the Shandians are not Sami. I will do my best to remain respectful of them, though. The Sami people, in this time period, were slowly being driven further north by the Nordic people. According to my scant research, they usually coexisted in some manner of peace because they had different economic niches and food sources, but the Nordic people had better access to southern trade and wealth (and disease), thus making it easier for them to seize Sami lands and people if they desired it. There is a history of trade between the groups, possibly assimilation in some areas, some Sami utilized the strength of their Nordic neighbors and paid taxes in exchange for protection from shared enemies, and there are tales of wars and battles between them (at least they are assumed to be in reference to the Vikings). As time carried on, relations grew much worse, with the Sami losing rights, resources (especially those along the valuable coasts), and their independence/ sovereignty. Their language and culture especially came under attack in the last few centuries, especially around WWII. Since the war, they were mostly assimilated into the Scandinavian culture, though Finland, Norway, and Sweden do have Sami parliaments now that give the ethnic group some political influence, and there has been renewed interest in their culture, language, and history._

 _I do not know much about the Sami and their exact relationship with the Norse at this time period, I can only go off what historians assume to be the case based on scant evidence, but I will do my best to remain respectful._

 _The Nordic people often referred to the Sami tribes in relation to where they were settled. So, Mountain, or River Sami were those that lived more inland. Sea Sami lived along the coasts. They are of the same ethnic group, the Norse just differentiated between them. There were other terms they used to refer to them, but some of them are considered disrespectful, so I will stick with just 'Sami'._

 _About the Sami language - it is an Uralic language, like Finnish or Hungarian, rather than having any relation to Norse (which is a Germanic language)._

 _Since I make mention of Ove's sexuality again, I will explain that it was not looked down upon for men to have sex with other men, so long as they were in the 'active'/'male' role, i.e. penetrating. The Viking raiders were actually known to rape men they captured, not just women, in order to emasculate and humiliate them, and slaves in their society had zero rights and could be used however they desired. It was only when men subjected themselves to be in the 'female' position, that they were condemned and looked down upon. They were called 'ergi' - which is a term that has been applied to some of the gods, as well (ex: Odin for his practice of seidr - a womanly magic, and his supposed transformation into a female to have sex with men in a ritual; and Loki is of course considered ergi for giving birth, among other questionable acts)._

 _Female homosexuality was not deemed important enough to discuss in the sagas. It happened (there is reference to women refusing men because of their own sexuality), but was generally overlooked as long as they married and had children (something that was expected of gay men, as well). Shieldmaidens were often women who refused typical gender roles, and some believe this was because they were gay (or trans), but there are stories where they eventually put down their sword and married. Also, some believe the goddess Frigga's handmaidens could be her lovers, that some of the descriptions of them could be euphemisms (Norse poetry is filled to the brim with kennings that make it difficult to decipher, so this is entirely plausible). One is said to 'keep her secrets', an act considered intimate. So yes, Nami collecting women to be her 'handmaids' is a reference to this theory. Because of her higher social class and status, and her spiritual position as a volva, her desire for female sexual partners is not considered abnormal._

 _Does she have sex with them? *shrugs* I will leave that up to the readers' imaginations and preferences. I can safely say that, while I will not depict it, there are at least two named female characters that will have sex with each other at some point in time. It just has no relevance to the plot, so I'm not writing it. But, I will mention it near the end of the arc. Tbh, none of the women I write are actually straight in my head, soooo... *shrug*_

 _Last note is about the Swedish King I briefly mention - no, he is not a One Piece character or of particular importance. Technically the king of Sweden at this time period is Erik the Victorious (I make a subtle reference to that), but seeing that Norway does not have its proper king in this story (Olaf Tryggvason), then I can't really say if it's actually Erik ruling over Sweden, lol. The fun of fusing fictional characters with actual history._

 _I think that is it for notes on this chapter._

 _Advance warning for the next chapter - it will obviously have a lot of violence and gore. And I mean A LOT. :)_


	31. Chapter 31

_Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Wolf's Nature_

He hated sleeping. He hated dreaming. He would lie awake for as long as he could, fighting against the pull of his eyelids to avoid the dream that refused to end. But it always came. It always dragged him back in to the same dream he loathed. The same stone. The same sun-dappled field. The same chains. The same incessant question he had yet to find an adequate answer to.

As much as he hated those dreams, he hated waking even more. His bed was too large, too cold, too empty. His hall a shadow of itself. Misery surrounded him, dragged him down as he struggled to go through his daily routine. He knew he could not wallow. His village needed to be repaired, rebuilt. His people needed to be coaxed back, though he would not force them to return until he was certain it was safe, and that would not come until Enel's head was on a spike. He needed to prepare for the war on the horizon.

Because it would come. And he would not see defeat again.

He had thought that sleep would allude him once he returned to Drafn. His mind would be too focused on what his hall lacked, the empty room beside his and the woman it belonged to out of reach. He had ransacked their rooms the first night. The curtains were torn down and shredded, her bedding ripped off and scattered around the room. Her table was overturned, as was his own. The floor was littered with shattered wood and tattered cloth. And when that rampage was over, he remained angry, but too exhausted to care. He collapsed in bed, asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and drowned in sunlight and iron chains.

Since he returned, everyday was the same. He woke bitter and angry and cold. He ate meagerly, just enough to maintain his strength, and then sat at Killer's side to help him eat his breakfast while his burns continued to mend. He trusted Heat to take care of his cousin, but the healer had others that needed him more. Kid could see to his own family, leaving the rest to Heat and the able-bodied people capable of aiding him.

After the meal, he helped clean Killer's wounds while Heat prepared to replace the dressings. That was a difficult task to sit through. To hear his cousin hiss and grunt in pain, to see him flinch and lean away when it grew too much, to witness a man he knew to be strong suffer from wounds he should never have received – it all served to make Kid angrier than before. At least Killer was alive. He would heal. He would grow stronger. And they would take down the scum who thought to make them suffer.

He spent the rest of the day rebuilding the smithy or chopping down trees or repairing homes or docks. Whatever kept his hands and mind busy. Those were the only moments of relief from the dark rage simmering at the back of his mind. He didn't have to think of anything beyond the hammer in his hand and the nails he drove into boards, or the axe slicing through a tree. He could pretend it was Enel's head or neck that he aimed at, but when he dared to think of the king, whatever he worked on was demolished and he would be forced to start all over again. It was better not to think, only to feel.

He worked until the skin of his palms turned raw and bloody, and his body ached from head to toe. Others aided him in the rebuilding efforts, but he was the one who worked straight through the day, until someone rang the bell for dinner, and then he continued to work until someone dragged him to the hall to force him to eat.

Sind was typically the one sent to fetch him. The boy followed in his wake most of the day, silently helping where he could. The few slave women that had fled to the safety of his family's old farm, and were brave enough to return, would take the boy away to keep him from working to the brink of exhaustion like Kid would. Nami would never forgive him if he worked the child to death, so he said nothing when the women took him away for a drink or treat.

He did not eat supper with his men in the hall as he normally would. He had the slaves tuck his share into a box and satchel, along with extra food and supplies, strung it over his shoulder, and took a horse out to his old hovel to see to Gunda. The woman refused to return to the hall, refused to eat, refused to speak. Every night he visited her, she remained in the tiny bed that once belonged to his mother, the bed he once shared with Nami, and hid beneath the furs in her melancholy. He did not coax her to speak as he shared his meal with Geir and Ingvild.

The little girl was sullen after the loss of her grandmother, but she was coping better than Gunda. Her young life had not seen as much death and destruction and tragedy as Gunda's had. This last battle, and the injuries Gunda sustained, broke a woman who had been broken a dozen times over.

He did not know what words to say to comfort her, knew better than to try, but refused to let her think that he had abandoned her.

She fought bravely to protect Nami, just as she was supposed to do. She did not have to bear the weight of her defeat on her shoulders. The failure was not merely her own. She did not have to be alone in carrying it.

Each night as he left, he stood over the bed and barked an order he knew Gunda would not follow, not yet. He demanded her to return to the hall, to prepare herself to take Nami back. And if she would not do that, then he ordered her to eat, even just one bite of the bread he brought. He ordered her to stay alive long enough to see her lady return to them.

He wanted to be angry with her for giving in to her weakness, for sinking into a pit of despair. He wanted to shout at her, drag her from that bed kicking and screaming. He had not given up. He was shackled by the gods, helpless to do anything. A part of him wanted to give in, too. He wanted to waste away, lying in cold misery in his empty bed. But he refused to cower, to mourn, to run away. He would move forward, and with time, he would see that Gunda did, as well. He would allow her to heal and mend, both the scars on her face, and those in her heart, but he would see she came back to them, whether she wanted to or not.

He spent his last waking hours of the evening with his cousin, ending the day as it began. Even as the others settled into bed, he remained at Killer's side, combing his long blond mane to keep himself busy. His cousin was proud of his hair, as any man should be, and Kid would not let it turn to rotted mats. He had trimmed the singed ends, and clipped away the whiskers of his beard that grew too close to his blistered flesh. He braided the locks every night to keep them from sticking to Killer's weeping sores as he slept. At week's end, he would wash the mane with lye soap to keep it clean and trim away any other damaged pieces he could find.

Darkness would have long since fallen before he allowed himself to go to bed. He took a generous pitcher of ale with him every night, hoping it would drown his dreams in black, instead of the light that had turned into a cruel taunt of what he could not have. It only ever ensured that he woke with a headache the next morning, but he stubbornly persisted with the routine in the hope that it would work even once.

That night, after weeks of the same sun, the same field, the same stone, the same chains, he finally opened his eyes to a different dream.

It did not seem different at first. He remained in the clearing, the forest surrounding him, with the same stone at his back and chains around his limbs. The sun was dimmed, speckled by wisps of grey cloud. Shadows danced over the field, fell over his prone form. He could hear the boar rustling in the trees, but otherwise the world seemed too silent, too still.

He jerked at a chain and waited for the question to come, but he was only greeted with silence. He knew _he_ was out there – watching, waiting. Why did he not speak? Why did he not ask his question?

Kid growled and kicked at the chain around his foot. The clouds grew, the field darkened, a gentle mist settled over him. Still no question came. What did he wait for this time?

The rock grew slick beneath him as he twisted an arm, curled a hand, tried to slip free of a shackle. There was a hiss of fabric that moved through the tall grass. He grew still and craned his neck to see who approached.

The shadows and mists coalesced, turned into creatures shrouded in cloaks that writhed and swirled, like black smoke rising from a smoldering flame. Three surrounded him. One at his feet. One at his right. One at his left.

 _He has no answer_ , a voice croaked. He did not know which one spoke. The words echoed around him, filled his head, and seemed to come from everywhere.

 _He does not know_ , another voice rasped.

 _He does not understand_ , yet another mused.

 _He waits_ , the first said.

 _He waits_ , the second agreed.

 _He does not see_ , the third remarked.

 _What will you give for her?_ they asked as one.

He growled at the question he had been waiting for. _"Everything_ ," he hissed in response.

Their heads moved, shook side to side. He saw no faces, but he knew they were disappointed all the same.

"Free me," he shouted as impatience clawed at his chest. He was tired of the gods and their games. He was tired of the riddles, the questions. His fate was his own. He would take it into his hands and end the curse once and for all. "I know you are out there," he bellowed above the three. "End this! Free me!"

A long sigh carried on the breeze and the three figures drew closer.

 _He does not know_ , one said.

 _He does not see_.

 _He does not wish to see._

"See what? What am I missing?" he asked in frustration.

The figure before him shifted. The mass of smoke where a head might be tilted to the side.

 _He believes they have the key._

 _He believes the chains are of their making._

 _He does not see._

He wanted to cry at their words, but shouted instead. He slammed his head back against the rock, willing it to shatter with the strike. Riddles. Endless riddles. His life was turning to riddles that would drive him mad.

 _He does not know…_

 _Of what he is capable…_

 _Of what he has done…_

He shouted again. The iron chains clattered against the stone as he struggled.

 _They closed the shackles…_

 _But they did not forge the iron…_

 _The chains were already there…_

He stilled once more and stared at the shadow in front of him. The chains were already there? The gods did not forge them? What did that mean?

Laughter echoed around him. Deep chuckles, melodic giggles, conniving snickers. A chorus of jeers and mockery that rankled him. He jerked at his bonds to search for who dared to belittle him, but he saw no one there.

 _Hatred…_

 _Sorrow…_

 _Anger…_

 _Fear…_

 _Useless…_

 _Worthless…_

 _Striving…_

 _Failing…_

 _Falling…_

The words surrounded him, filled him, cut at him. The mist turned to rain as they spoke. Cold droplets pounded on his brow. He struggled at his bonds, but even though his hands were slick with water, he could not slip them free.

 _He restrains himself…_

 _He fears failure…_

 _And yet he rushes headlong toward his own demise…_

 _He would rather die…_

 _Than lose…_

 _But what can a dead man achieve…_

 _He must see it…_

 _He must know it…_

 _He must fear it…_

 _Flee it…_

 _See it…_

The shadows drew closer. He shut his eyes as cold, white, gnarled hands reached out toward him. The rain came down harder. The water deafened him. The sound of a crashing wave filled his ears. But he could still hear them.

 _If he remains here…_

 _Stagnant…_

 _Powerless…_

 _Useless…_

 _He will drown…_

 _Then let him drown…_

 _Let him see…_

Water lapped at his feet. Icy fingers clawed at his skin, pulled him down. He tried to shout, but water filled his mouth, his lungs. The stone vanished, but the shackles at his wrist bit into him as he reached out. He did not want to drown, not there.

He had to see her. He had to save her.

He was not powerless. He was not useless.

He was not afraid.

To die.

To live.

 _Open your eyes_ , they hissed in his ear as the water rushed up around him.

 _Open your eyes and see_ , they said as the chains and bony fingers dragged him deeper.

 _You will see…_

 _And you will know…_

 _And you will understand…_

 _What she strives for…_

 _What she fights for…_

He could not open his eyes. He could only struggle as water filled his lungs and dragged him into the depths like an iron hammer dropped into the sea.

 _Open your eyes…_

 _See…_

 _Her…_

His feet struck solid ground just as his eyes snapped open. A rush of putrid air filled his lungs. The stench of death surrounded him.

But she was there. A beacon of fire at the center of a bleak world, painted in blue and grey, frozen in time.

"Nami," he breathed out and took a step forward. His foot slipped with a sickening _squelch._ He looked down and lost his breath.

Corpses. A sea of corpses. Wolves and men. Giants. Rivers of blood flowed from them, through them, around them. Swords and spears and arrows grew from their limbs and backs and skulls.

He stood in a battlefield.

 _The battlefield_.

He looked toward her again, squinted through the haze that rose from the tattered, blood-soaked earth. A giant loomed above her, his hair inky black, his skin as blue as the sea, his teeth jagged and sharp – the maw of a shark. The giant reached down for her. The world was frozen, but he moved. Slowly. Creeping. Inch by inch.

And she was helpless. Alone. Clutching a lifeless lump of fur that he knew must be the wolf in her dreams. The wolf that was he.

Her face was streaked with blood. And tears. Her hair was matted and wet and filthy, its glow fading, dying with every passing second as the giant's shadow crept closer.

Her head was angled back. Her mouth gaping. A silent scream? A wail? Terror or despair? He did not know what she felt of those two, but either would leave her helpless. _Hopeless_.

He stepped forward, ignoring the death and decay around him. He focused on her. Only on her. Always on her. He had to save her. He could not let this be the end. He had to break her curse. He swore that he would set her free. It could not end this way.

"Nami," he shouted, but he felt that his voice was as silent as her own. He could hear nothing around him. Only emptiness. And death.

"Nami," he hollered again. She did not move. She did not blink. The giant's hand crept closer still. A tear slid down her cheek.

He growled and prepared to run. He would stop this. He would end this. He would reach her. He would protect her.

He slammed into nothingness, into a mass of air as hard as stone. His shackles rang as he pounded on whatever stood in his way. There was nothing there to stop him, and yet he could not move forward. He could not reach her. He could not touch her.

"Nami," he yelled. "Let me save her! Release me!"

No one answered. The barrier remained before him. He pounded and pounded, snarled in frustration as the world shook around him. He punched and shouted, willed his fist to shatter the wall before him.

The giant's shadow swallowed the last of Nami's flame. A rumbling chuckle echoed around him, sadistic in its victory. The world quaked and he could finally hear her scream, her agony.

It shattered into darkness. Void. Emptiness.

He floated in the nothingness. His chest felt hollow. Dead.

It was over. He lost her. He lost everything.

 _Kid_ , a voice whispered.

It was a sweet sound, a breath of fresh air.

 _Kid_ , it called again. Louder. Closer.

A scent carried on a breeze. Rain. Leaves. Oranges?

 _Open your eyes_ , she said. _Please open your eyes._

He wanted to, but what would he see? More death? More ruin? More failure?

 _Kid!_

This time her voice was so sharp, so close as it echoed around him, he had no choice but to open his eyes.

He laid on the ground. No… _roots_. Warm but damp. The iron shackles remained on his wrists and ankles, the chains slithered away to wind around the base of a tree.

" _Kid_ ," she called from above. Excited. Eager. Relieved.

He looked up into the boughs of a tree so mighty and old, it robbed him of all breath. As he stared up, he swore it grew taller. He picked himself off the ground, and even at his full height, he could not reach the lowest branches.

But she was up there. Somewhere.

"Nami," he called out. "Where are you?"

"I can see you," she called back, her voice all around.

He searched through the branches and evergreen leaves. He thought he caught a flash of amber, but water dripped into his eyes and blurred his sight.

"I can't see you," he hollered.

The tree creaked and groaned and stretched. He looked toward the trunk. The wood was gouged and carved from the chain, claws had raked through the bark.

A wolf had fought at his bindings.

"Kid," she yelled.

He thought she sounded closer. He heard a branch snap. A huff of annoyance. He grappled at the tattered bark and tried to climb, even as the branches grew further away. He would dig his fingers into the wood until there was nothing left but bony stumps if he had to. He would find a way to climb up and reach her.

He listened to her huff and struggle in the boughs above while he tried to climb the trunk. He slipped each time he tried to balance a foot on a root or gouged piece of bark, and slid back to the ground. But they would find a way to reach each other. They had to.

A rumble of thunder was followed by her gasp.

"Nami?" he called out when she grew silent. He craned his neck to search for her again, but found nothing.

Lightning flashed in the grey sky above. The tree trembled at its thunder.

"Nami," he shouted, but still heard no answer.

The roots around him rolled and writhed as they grew out into the well of water the tree sat in. They curled up, pushed him from the trunk, and closer to the water's edge. It was driving him away from her. Why would it keep him away from her?

Rage returned. If he had an axe, he would chop the damn thing down. He would find her then. The tree would send her to him, if only to save itself. He would tear and gnaw at its roots with his hands and teeth in place of the axe he lacked.

The roots shifted and spread and rose above him until he could no longer see the rest of the tree while the cool waters of the well splashed at his feet. He struck a root, slammed a fist against it until it trembled from the force.

Something fell from above and landed at his feet in the water with a splash. It squealed and thrashed, and he looked down to see it was a rat. It looked nearly starved, little more than skin and bones, and its front feet had been cut off. Flies swarmed the creature, taunted it, agitated it, bit at its flesh until its hair was patchy and bleeding. If this was who he thought it was, then he was pleased to see that he suffered.

But then the swarm of flies grew, and the air filled with their buzzing. They flew into him, nipped at his face and hands. He swatted them away, only to see their numbers double. He stumbled back as they attacked and attacked. Water lapped at his ankles, his knees, his thighs.

 _It is dangerous_ , a voice hissed and bellowed all at once just as the flies burst into flames.

A man lunged at him with a sneering smile and mischievous eyes and hair licked with fire that burned as bright as _hers_.

" _Soon_ ," he snickered, " _but not yet_."

With a harsh shove, he toppled Kid into the water, to drown in the depths of the well.

A hand grabbed him and pulled. He gasped in a lungful of fresh, sweet air and opened his eyes to the sunlit field and stone and chains.

He would have bemoaned the return of the dream that haunted him, but this time he welcomed the warm sun that chased away the shadows and chill of all the worlds he had seen.

A shadow fell over him, and he wondered if the Norns had returned, but the rumbling, soothing chuckle was different from their croaked and raspy voices. The rage he felt moments before ebbed. The tension in his shoulders fell away. Peace. Calm. Focus.

"You saw her," he said. "You saw that she reaches for you."

"Where is she?" Kid asked. He knew, but he needed to be certain, without a shadow of doubt. He needed to know the direction he had to go in. He needed to know which way to turn to find her.

"Soon," he answered. "As the queen sets the board for her king, the first moves have already been made."

He furrowed his brows at the strange remark. What did that mean?

He could see the man's toothy grin through the shadows of his cloak. "Soon you will know. Soon you will see. But first you must wake…"

Wolves howled in the distance.

"Wake to who you are. Wake to the fury inside you. Feel it. Use it. Consume it, but do not let it consume you. The time is near. The chains have already loosened, the oldest links have grown weak with rust. Soon there will be nothing to hold you back from attaining everything you seek. Soon you will have her again and your heart can know peace…

"But first you must _awaken_."

He shot up in bed, gasping for air. Something tumbled to the floor with a shriek of surprise. He glanced down and found Sind groaning as he rubbed his shoulder. He glowered at the boy, prepared to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but movement beside the door stopped him.

"You would not wake," Heat explained where he leaned against the wall. "You spent the whole night thrashing and muttering in your sleep." He pointed to Sind. "He grew curious when he heard you say Nami's name. I ordered him to let you finish your dream. He fell asleep on you as he waited. What did you see?"

Kid scrubbed a hand over his face and scratched at the thin beard he had allowed to grow in. He spent all his energy on Killer or the village, he had none left for his own grooming. His hair would be a mess if Ingvild did not comb it every night after he supped. Once Nami was returned to him, then everything would be normal again.

"More than I can find words to explain," he answered. "I saw the vision she fears. The one from her nightmares." Heat nodded in understanding and waited for him to continue. "And I saw her… Or heard her… I was at the base of Yggdrasil." Heat's eyes widened, and he leaned forward, urging him to say more. "I could smell her, too. I think it was her. It was sweeter than I remember… The scent of oranges, of the apples from China. But it felt right. She was high in the boughs, out of sight, but I could hear her struggling to climb down. She was calling for me. The tree kept us separated. Then there was thunder, and lightning, and I couldn't hear Nami anymore. The roots buried me, pushed me toward the water…" He furrowed his brow as he grasped for the images from the disjointed dream. "There was a rat. It was being tortured." He chuckled, truly hoping that was Nezumi's fate. "Flies. A swarm of flies that grew as I swatted them away."

"Flies? Nami saw flies in her vision in England," Heat mused.

"Someone leaped out at me from the flies, shoved me into the well. He was… on fire… or his hair was aflame… His grin was twisted, amused… Mischief…" He struggled to piece together that bit. It was not as clear as the rest, it had happened so fast. "He said it was dangerous. But soon…" He shook his head to stop himself from fixating on what that might mean. "And then the field, and Freyr. He said that… As the queen set the board for her king, the first moves had already been made. And then he told me to awaken, to use the fury within me… That soon I would have everything."

Heat hummed. "I see… I believe he was warning you of what you would be waking to."

"Waking to?" Kid stared at his healer in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"We have visitors," he said.

Kid's brows shot up. "Visitors? Who?"

Heat remained silent, his lips pursed in a frown that told him he would not like his answer. "They came as you slept. Wire has refused them entrance into the hall. We all agreed that you would not want to invite them as guests."

Kid growled at the cryptic response. "Who are they?"

Heat bowed his head and turned for the door. "You should eat first. Take your time to see to them…" He glanced over his shoulder as he walked out. "It is late in the morning. They have waited for hours already. They can wait longer. I do not think you would appreciate hearing of the king's taxes before you have had a meal."

Understanding dawned on him. Heat was correct, he did not want to hear of the king's taxes. Not before he ate, and not after. Not _ever_.

He jumped out of bed and snatched a pair of trousers from the floor. He noticed Sind sitting on the floor, his head cocked to the side in confusion as he watched him dress. "Hand me that knife," he ordered, gesturing to a knife he wedged into the table beside his bed. "And find an axe," he added while he wrapped his thick leather war-belt around his waist.

The boy did as told, and scoured the ruins of the room for an axe while Kid tied his hair back with a thin strip of leather. He found the axe beneath the bed, then waited for Kid to pull his boots on and wrap his legs with leather and wool up to his knee before holding the weapons out for him. Kid took the axe and tucked it into a leather loop on his belt, then slipped the knife into the front of his belt. The iron was cold against the bare flesh of his stomach, but it lit a fire in his veins as he imagined the blood it would soon spill.

He tousled Sind's hair on his way out of the room, ignored the boy as he followed him into the main hall. The men in the room straightened when he entered, their eyes watching as he stormed toward the closed entryway.

"Kid," he heard Killer rasp from his furs. He waved for his cousin to stay put, but he could hear as Killer groaned and struggled to stand despite the order.

"Jarl Eustass," Wire spoke up as he rushed to intercept him.

"Do not stop me," he bit out. His glare was enough to see Wire stand down and back away. No one else tried to get in his way after that, but they all rushed to follow him outside once he tore up the front door.

Strangers milled about the square. None were at ease, not when two dozen of his own men stood guard throughout the village. They were wise not to lower their guards. Even if they came in peace, they knew not to expect a hand held out in hospitality or grace. Their king attacked his people without just cause, and he was not known to be the forgiving sort.

As he stepped onto his porch, a single man stepped forward while the twenty or so that accompanied him fell into line. Their hands flexed at their sides, hovered near the pommels of their weapons.

"Jarl Eustass," the man called to him in greeting.

"Are you the one in command?" he barked out as he leaped off the porch and continued to storm toward the men that were not welcome in his territory.

"I am," the man at the forefront said. He clutched his sword but did not draw it. That was a mistake. "My name is McKinl-"

He grabbed their commander by the throat, ending the introduction in a strangled, garbled hiss of air as he lifted the man off the ground. He did not care to hear his name, nor the name of any of the others. He did not need them to speak until his question was answered.

Swords scrapped in their sheaths in front and behind. The tension in the square was on the cusp of shattering, but Kid raised a hand to signal his men stand down. The only reason he knew the king's men did not attack was because they were outnumbered by his forces. Half of his men may still be wounded from their last battle, but a wounded man often fought harder, willing to forfeit what little was left of their lives to achieve victory for the rest. And they had surely not missed the archers he kept positioned on the roof of his hall. They would be dead the moment they took one step toward him.

He glared into the eyes of the man he held. The commander clawed at his hand in a bid for freedom, but Kid only tightened his grip as he growled. "You should not have come here," he said, barely containing the fury that burned in his chest. "But since your king was foolish enough to send you, then tell me where she is."

"She?" the man hissed once Kid loosened his hold enough for him to speak. "Lady Nami?"

Kid squeezed his throat as he slowly slid out his knife. "Who else would I be asking about? Did your king keep her? Or did he send her back to Arlong? Tell me who has her."

The commander sucked in a breath when he allowed it. "King Enel," he hissed. "She belongs to him."

Kid glanced down when he dropped a hand to grip his sword once more. He did not wait for him to draw it and slammed his knife into his shoulder. His pained cry was stifled by the grip on his throat, but it was still loud enough for the rest to hear.

Chaos broke out in that moment. He left the knife buried in the commander's chest as he shoved him at the oncoming militia to slow their advance.

"Stand down," Kid shouted at his men. It was his last coherent thought. He did not want any of them to fight, did not want a single arrow shot at him as he fought. Lost in his rage, he could not ensure their safety, not when all he saw was red, and all he felt was insatiable bloodlust.

He fought on instinct alone as he drew his axe to catch the first sword swung at his head. He darted to the side as someone struck at his back, clutched the arm that held the second sword, and drove it straight into the first man he held back. As the first fell, he drew his axe down, sliced through the stomach of another, and spun the man whose arm he still gripped to use him as a shield against the first arrow shot his way.

He saw the commander up among his men, a hand clutched to his bleeding chest and the knife sticking out of him. His sword was in his other hand, an angry sneer on his face, but he shouted a command for his men to fall back. He had lost two to Kid's rage, he did not want to lose more.

It was unfortunate for him that Kid planned to kill the lot of them.

"We came in peace," the commander growled. "To negotiate the terms of your fealty."

"Fealty?" Kid could not help but laugh. He threw his head back and cackled at the idiocy. Did Enel truly believe he would surrender his sovereignty? Did the mad-king think he would kneel after one defeat? Did he think so little of him?

"If you refuse to submit and surrender a percentage of your hoard as the first payment of tax due, then we have been given leave to take the one known as Killer as a hostage."

His laughter died at the threat. His rage returned.

"Hostage?" he snarled, and took a step forward. He still held onto the man he claimed as a living shield. His breath was ragged from the arrow in his lung, but he would die soon enough.

"To be put to death in place of the taxes you refuse to pay," the commander explained.

Kid let out a forced chuckled. "You think you can capture him? You think you can get through me to reach him?" The commander glared in response. His men trembled, but forced themselves to glare, too. Their gazes were haughty, overly confidant. They were all looking down on him, just as their king did. "You all piss me off," he growled as he brought his axe up to his captive's throat. "If you want him, you'll have to kill me first," he shouted before slicing his shield's throat open. He shoved the man into the mud to writhe as he slowly died, then stood tall in front of the pitiful army Enel had sent for him. He slammed a hand against his bare chest and dared them to do their worst.

The commander gave a shout, a command to rush the hall and search for Killer. Kid stood in the way of it, and his men all gathered on the porch to watch and wait and fight if they had to.

Their archer shot first. A warning, a threat. The intent did not matter, Kid dodged it all the same. As the archer knocked his next shot, Kid was ready for it. He clutched his axe, waited for the fingers to release the arrow, and then threw his axe, end over end, to bury itself in the archer's shoulder. He fell back screaming, but Kid had already moved onto his next victim. Snatching up a sword from one of the nearby corpses, Kid ran at the army, into a sea of swords and axes and spears.

The world fell away from him between the span of two strikes. He heard nothing. He felt nothing. He saw nothing but steel and blood. Weapons and shields flew toward the battle from the hall, his men giving him everything he needed to fight as he slashed his way through their enemies. When his sword shattered, he grabbed hold of a spear and ran through two men in one strike. He picked up a shield in one hand and an axe in the other, then spun to catch an axe that aimed for his head. He buried his blade in their side when they left it open, stole their axe for himself, and slammed it into the next warrior.

His lungs burned as he lashed at every man around him. One nearly slipped by him, but he tackled him to the ground, and twisted his arm to stab him with his own sword. He held tight to the dying corpse, rolled to his back, and let him take the next axe strike while he took his sword to run through the man that had hoped to kill him from behind.

His hands were slick with blood and sweat when he went for another axe lying in the mud. He threw it at a warrior who thought to rush the hall. The back of it slammed into his head. Not lethal, but enough to stun. Kid was too concerned with the wave of warriors bearing down on him to care about the one who staggered blindly toward the hall. He would collapse, or die at the hands of his men. He was no threat after that.

He found a knife, slashed at someone's ankle to send him to ground while he jumped to his feet. He rushed another man and stabbed him in the gut as many times as he could before moving on to the next.

The battle had turned to madness, but with every man that fell, it gradually slowed. Over the rush of blood in his ears, he heard the command to retreat. He would not allow that.

A dozen lay dead or dying around him as the commander and the rest staggered for their ship. He did not know when he struck them, could not remember much in the haze of his battle. The commander bled from his side and a cut to his temple. One man wailed as he was dragged to the ship, clutching a bloody stump where a hand should be. They wanted the fight to be over, to return home and lick their wounds, to cower before their king and plead that he send a mightier army to lay siege on Drafn.

Kid's anger shifted into a cold rage as he stalked through the bodies around him. He found the archer and his quiver of arrows. He was still alive. _Barely_. Kid took the axe from his shoulder and buried it between his eyes to put him out of his misery. As the corpse twitched in the throes of death, he snatched up the bow and arrows.

Calm settled over him as he picked off each and every coward that showed their back to him, until only their commander remained. He hobbled toward the ship, glancing over his shoulder as Kid aimed one last arrow on him. His eyes widened in shock and he tried to quicken his pace. It was futile. Even if by some miracle of the gods he reached his ship, he would not be able to sail it, not alone and injured.

Kid first aimed for the man's neck, then thought better of it and shot the arrow straight into the back of his knee. The bastard and his king thought he would kneel. He would show him how wrong they were.

"Get me a hammer," he called to his men as he cast away the stolen bow and sauntered toward the commander who clawed at the mud in some vane attempt to scramble away. "And gather the living," he added as he came to a stop beside the commander. His shadow fell over the pathetic man who finally fell still, resigned in his fate.

"What was your name, again?" Kid asked.

"McKinley," he answered, his voice ragged and raw.

"And Enel sent you to mock me?"

"To collect -"

"Taxes," Kid interrupted with a growl as he slammed his foot onto McKinley's back. "He had to know what my answer would be before he sent you," he said as he crouched down, grinding his heel into the man's spine until he cried out in pain. "They say he has the gift of foresight. If that is the case, then he must know that he sent you here to die. Your death is a sacrifice he was willing to make, just so he could mock me." He grabbed the arrow in McKinley's knee and twisted it until the man screamed. "He is sitting on his throne at this very second, _laughing_ at me." He twisted again. Grinned at the next scream. "And he's laughing at you, too, _moron_. You sold yourself to a man who thinks nothing of you. You're dirt to him. Scum on the bottom of his shoe." Another twist. Another scream. "You're a coward. You are a pathetic piece of shit who lowered himself to his knees and sucked a madman's cock like a good little slave."

Commotion behind him drew his attention to his men as they approached. They carried six men between them, two were unconscious, the rest barely awake as they bled from open wounds. One man's intestines hung from his gut.

"Line them up by their ship," Kid ordered, then turned back to McKinley. He kicked the commander onto his back, straddled him, and gripped his bruised throat once more. "You wanted to run away. You wanted to flee this place and go home, back to safety, correct?"

McKinley did not answer, only struggled to breathe as Kid strangled him.

"Well, today is your lucky day, because I'm feeling merciful." He grinned as he released his neck and watched the man suck in a deep breath. "I want you to deliver a message to your king for me," he said as he ripped out the knife that had remained in McKinley's chest. He arched beneath him and cried out as blood sprayed from the wound, and then cried out again when Kid slammed the knife back into him. "You tell him," Kid growled as he twisted the knife. He enjoyed listening to this man's screams. He could not laugh at him, could not look down on him, could not mock him while he screamed. He would be sure to do the same to Enel when the day came. "Tell him I kneel for no one. Tell him the only person who might have the power to send me to my knees is the woman he stole from me." He twisted the knife the other way, laughed as he felt the sinew tear. "I will steal her back and I will send him to his knees for taking her from me. I will make him suffer for every tear he made her shed, for every death she had to see. And then I will send him to Náströnd, to be chewed on by the serpent Nidhogg until the end of days. He will know no peace, only the malice I hold for him."

He pulled the knife from McKinley's chest, and then slammed his fist into his face. Over and over and over, as rage burned in his chest once more. He did not stop until McKinley's face was swollen, deformed, a bloody, unrecognizable mess. The commander had lost consciousness, but he continued to breath ragged, wet breaths through the twisted ruins of his mouth and nose.

Kid felt moderately appeased, enough to get off him and drag him to the ship where the others waited. The urge to board that ship with a small army hidden in the guise of Enel's men teased him. The illusory chains jerked on his chest to end that thought. It was not yet time to fetch Nami and Ove back to his hall. This was the first move. If he understood what Freyr had said, Nami was hard at work preparing the board to ensure his victory. He would wait until her signal, and prepare what he could in the meantime.

First, he had to send a message to Enel. He had to declare his intent to war.

He dropped McKinley's body on the dock and stood in front of the other survivors. His men had lined them up, held them on their feet before him.

"This one's dead," he pointed out, gesturing to the one with his gut hanging out. He was surprised he lived as long as he had with that wound. Axel had been holding the corpse, but shoved the body away when he realized Kid was correct.

He moved on to the next man. He was conscious, but his eyes were glazed and his face was pale. Kid held out his hand to Heat who stood nearby with a hammer. Heat handed it over, and Kid swung it hard into the captive's knees. His screams rang out over the fjord as Kid shattered his kneecaps. The sharp odors of piss and shit reached his nose as the warrior fell limp in his captor's hold.

"Toss him on the ship," Kid ordered as he moved to the next.

He shattered the kneecaps of four men. The last captive had been unconscious when Kid reached him. His flesh was deathly ashen and cold. He was halfway into the grave, so Kid took his knife and helped him the rest of the way.

McKinley was the only one left to be put aboard the ship, but Kid had decided to give him a special seat. He laughed when the idea struck him and turned to his men.

"Get me rope and nails," he commanded. "I'll need additional hands for this one."

It took three other men to help him arrange McKinley's body so that it hung from the curled serpent figurehead of their ship. They bound his chest and legs with rope, wound another around his face to hold it aloft, and then Kid had them hold his arms up, hands flat against the side of the serpent's head. McKinley roused as he drove the nails into his palms. He groaned and cried out around the rope in his mouth, and then fell unconscious once more.

He shattered the commander's knees, too, and then climbed aboard their ship to string up the other four. Two were bound and nailed to the center mast, and two were bound and nailed to the support posts on each side of the mast. The four had been conscious for their torture, giving him the satisfaction of hearing their screams. They deserved nothing less for bowing to the scum king that thought to mock him as he stole everything that mattered to him.

"Take our ship and tow theirs to the end of the fjord," he ordered Wire as he leaped back onto the dock. "Set the sail and turn them toward Oslo. I have a feeling the wind and sea will favor their journey home without your help."

"Yes, Jarl," Wire nodded, then turned away to holler for men to help crew their ship.

Kid turned for the hall and the bodies littering the square.

"Jarl Eustass," Heat began as he fell in step beside him. "I need to see to your injuries."

Kid looked down at his bloody chest and arms. There was a gash on his abdomen, another on his collarbone, and his knuckles were bruised and cut. He could feel the sting of another gash on his back as he moved, and fire coursed from another cut on his thigh that left his trousers soaked in blood. He was about to dismiss his healer. He had other things to see to. War was on the horizon and he had to be ready. A few cuts and scrapes were nothing to worry over. But then he noticed Killer leaning against the hall's doorframe, his lips set in a stern frown that silently told him not to argue. He had been allowed to rampage on McKinley and his men without their interference. If he refused his healer's care, he was liable to be yelled at by his cousin. And his cousin needed to focus on healing himself, not lecturing him.

"Quickly, then," he relented. "Axel, burn the bodies."

"Proper burial?" Axel asked.

"No," Kid grunted. "These cowards fight for the piece of shit that took Nami from me. Dump their ashes in the latrine so that we can piss on them every day. Halle, get the horses prepared," he called out as Axel saw to his orders. "After Heat is done with my wounds, we are dragging Gunda back."

"But Jarl, if she is not…" Halle argued.

"I do not care," he growled. "She belongs in my hall. I want her and the rest here before sundown. She can hide in her bed here, for all I care, but she returns to her home. Understood?"

"Yes, Jarl." Halle nodded and jogged off to see to the horses.

Kid ignored Killer's withering stare as he passed him on the way into the hall. He allowed Gunda her time to rest and mourn. Now that he declared war on Enel, it was not safe for her to be in that hovel. Geir might be there to protect her, but he would not be enough if the king thought to surround them again and strike at every vulnerable point.

He had plans to gather as many allies and soldiers as he could. He needed every able-bodied man he could find, and Gunda would help him procure at least a dozen of them, if not hundreds; hopefully without having to swallow any pride.

"We need ships and men and swords," he whispered to Killer. "When Wire returns, I will send him to Álasund to request Iceburg's support. Earl Bonney has already sworn to aid us when the time comes. But I need to replace the men we lost. Gunda will be a crucial voice in persuading certain karls to lend me their best warriors."

Killer's brows rose in surprise. "You mean to send a request to _her?_ "

Kid pursed his lips to show his distaste for the idea, but he had little other choice. "Gunda pleaded for me to spare my half-sister's life. As far as that woman knows, she owes Gunda a large debt for the life she now lives. She has uncles, cousins, a slew of karls at her disposal, and all of their allies."

"They will try to take advantage of you here," Killer hissed.

"Let them try," he growled back. "The first that tries to stab me in the back will see that their life ends. Any other stupid enough to try after that will just be digging their own grave."

"They will still want something in return."

"And I will give it, but only to my sister. The rest can fight her for it after my war is won. Assuming any of them come out of it alive." If he was fortunate, they would be fodder for the arrows and spears at the front line of battle. Let them die first to spare his men an extra second in battle to destroy their enemies. "I spared her life at her guardian's request. She is fortunate I am willing to give her anything at all in exchange for her aid. She should be beholden to me for the mercy I showed."

"She was your sister. You would not have killed her," Killer stated.

"She does not know that."

Killer sighed in response. "Who else should we call on for aid?"

"Not sure yet," Kid grunted. "Let's wait and see what Nami does next. She's plotting something in Oslo, I can feel it. She's not the type to wait around for a rescue."

"That she is not," Killer agreed.

"Now get back in your bed and rest, idiot." He gave his cousin a gentle shove inside. "I need you on the battlefield, too."

"Understood, _Jarl_ ," Killer said with a sarcastic snort, but he limped over to his bed, all the same.

Kid collapsed onto a fur beside him. His battle had begun to catch up to him. His wounds had begun to ache, and weariness set into his limbs. His stomach growled. He would eat well that day. He needed the strength for the days to come.

Sind appeared at his side as Heat began to clean and wrap his wounds. Kid had forgotten about the boy, wondered if he had watched the battle just as the other men had. He had watched Lucci and Urouge battle in England, but Kid doubted he had ever seen anything like a berserker's rage.

"Teach me to fight like that," Sind pleaded. "I want to protect Lady Nami, too."

Kid glowered at the boy. "No."

"But you said you would teach me how to fight."

"I did." He nodded. "But not like that. That ain't something that can be taught."

Sind pouted. "But…"

" _No_ ," he interrupted. "I will teach you how to swing a sword or axe, and how to hold a shield. Fight in a blind rage like that, you're liable to hurt everyone around you. Friend and foe. If you prove to hold a berserker's spirit, then Killer will teach you the rest."

His cousin nodded in agreement. The only reason Kid did not fly into blind, destructive rages at every slight or insult was because of Killer's patience. He was still easy to anger, he would never deny that, but the control and discipline he did have, came from Killer's guidance. He learned very quickly that a quiet anger was far more terrifying than the rage he had just unleashed on McKinley and his men. When Killer sank into a rage, it was controlled but deadly. He was quick and efficient with his kills in his anger. He would have slaughtered McKinley and his men in half the time that Kid had if he had been in the position to. He would have left fewer survivors, too.

If Sind learned how to fight in a rage, he would rather he learn from a man who knew how to control his emotions better than Kid ever could. That way he might have a chance to survive long enough to make a name for himself in the future.

Either way, Nami was sure to pitch a fit about it.

"Shit," he breathed out as he realized something important that he had forgotten in his anger.

"What is it?" Killer asked.

"Nami's going to see those men," he whispered.

She knew that he was cruel to his enemies. She knew that he had tortured the Saxons in England. She knew that he was vicious and mean and merciless.

But she had never seen the deepest depths of his malice.

What would she think of him when she saw what he had done? When she heard how he slaughtered all but five of the twenty-odd men sent to him? Would she fear him as she rightfully should have from the beginning? Would she be disgusted? Would she hate him?

He was not a good man. He would never be a good man.

She deserved better.

Killer slapped his back and snapped him from thoughts that would do him no good. He turned to glare at his cousin, though he knew the look lacked any potency. It was hard to feign annoyance when his gut twisted with worry.

"Have faith in her," Killer whispered. "She will understand."

He doubted that she would, but he forced himself to hope. It would make no difference what she thought of him. He would war with Enel, drag her back to his hall, and make her his queen.

Even if she loathed him, he would still love her.

* * *

 _Oslo_

The king reclined in his room, a picture of calm apathy and ease. Nami sat nearby, trying to concentrate on the runes in front of her, but anxiety and worry clenched at her gut and distracted her from her practice. She had nearly been impaled while sparring with him earlier, her mind far away in Drafn as she feared what was to come. Enel had called an end to that training, his disappointment in her weakness obvious, and commanded her to practice her magic in the hopes she did not accidentally get herself killed before she could be of use to him.

"Draw out twelve stones this time," Enel ordered with a long sigh. He was bored and displeased with her performance. "Arrange them in sets of three for each season. We are in the midst of summer, so start with that, followed by the harvest, then winter, and then the next spring." He plucked a sliver of apple from a gold tray and nibbled. "Tell me what blessings the season will bring us."

She nodded and reached into her runes to swirl them about, then pluck out twelve stones, one by one. She trembled as she arranged them, but strove not to let Enel to see it.

Her fears were two-fold that day, impossible to overcome. She feared what would happen in Drafn, to Kid and his men, and to McKinley and his men. She believed Enel's prediction, believed that soon she would be witness to a grim sight that came at the hands of a man she cared for. She knew what he was, knew that in his rage, he would be capable of dark things. All men were capable of that rage and cruelty. She had witnessed it in Arlong, in Kid, and now in Enel.

Women were hardly immune from such vile acts, themselves. She had imagined spilling the blood of her captors more times than she could count. In her anger and despair, she had imagined plunging a knife into Arlong until there was nothing left of him but chunks of flesh and pulverized sinew and shattered bone. Fear was what held her still, kept her from acting on every violent impulse.

Kid did not have that restraint. If he feared at all, it was not for himself, and the feeling was easily overshadowed by rage. Whatever was returned of Enel's men, her imaginations would likely pale in comparison. The thought made her nauseous, but this was war and there was no turning back now. Sacrifices would be made for her freedom, for Kid's victory, for the future she strove to make possible. Blood would be shed. The sea would run red with it when all was said and done.

The other thing she feared was the consequence of her last dream. She had seen Kid at the base of Yggdrasil. She had called to him and he had answered. Loki had warned her that it was too soon to reach out to him, that all was not prepared, but she ignored him and scrambled from branch to branch, slipped down the jagged trunk, nearly fell twice. She needed to be close to him. She needed to reassure him that she had not fled from him as she knew he would fear. She wanted to be with him. He needed to see that.

Lightning tore through the sky and thunder shook the tree before she could reach him. She hid against the trunk of the tree and clamped her hands over her mouth to silence her every breath. He was there. Enel was in the boughs, watching, listening. He surely heard Kid calling for her. He had to know that she was there, too. She swore that her heart raced in her chest loud enough for any to hear. She prayed with tears stinging her eyes, prayed that he would not find her, that he would not see Kid, that they would be left in peace in the tree – the one place she could go to see him, to see that he was well, to touch him, to feel the life in his veins. She prayed that her sanctuary was kept safe, kept a secret. She could not have them found out.

The tree shifted beneath her and she dared to peek down. The roots had swallowed Kid, drove him from her sight. She saw the rat and the flies that ate at it, saw it fall between a sliver of space between the roots. There was a splash, and she knew Kid was gone. Far from her, but far from Enel's sight. Her chance to reach him was gone, but she hoped to have another chance some other night.

Before she woke, the tree writhed at her back. A knot formed in the wood, then widened into a gaping notch. The branch she stood on shook and lurched and sent her tumbling inside the tree, into darkness and warmth. It shut her in, sealed her off from the world around Yggdrasil's branches. She did not fear in there. She was safe inside the tree. She knew it protected her from Enel, just as it had protected Kid.

It could not protect her in the waking world, though. He had to know. He had to have seen or heard something to make him suspicious. He had not yet said a word of it, but surely, he would. It was only a matter of time. He would lash out and it would all be over.

"Nami," he barked, snapping her from the fear that gripped her heart. She nervously looked up from the runes that may as well be pebbles for all they meant to her in that moment. Enel's face was pinched with annoyance. "Where is your mind at today?"

She bowed her head and cleared her throat. "I am sorry, my lord. I fear…" She took a deep breath. "I fear what is to become of McKinley."

"I already told you what fate will befall those men," he said, tone dangerous and low. "Their deaths will mean nothing to me when the battle comes. The loss will not weaken me. What else worries you?"

Her stomach roiled, and she thought she might wretch. A chill ran through her as she swallowed down her nausea. She felt sweat bead at her temple. Her body felt heavy as she trembled with fear and disgust.

"I also fear that…" She released a shaky breath and dared to glimpse at him through her lashes. "I fear that I have angered you." He cocked his head to the side, his annoyance turned to confusion. She bowed her head and rushed to explain. "You are wasting men on a man not worth your time and attention, all because of me. We have a long voyage to prepare for, your ascendancy to your divine station, a new land to discover. There is so much that must be done. I do not want to displease you with the needless dramatics of my old life. I do not want you to cast me away for all the troubles I give you."

And she feared that he would catch her in the act of subterfuge and slit her throat before she could do any real damage.

She flinched at Enel's chuckle, her spine went rigid as he stood. She didn't dare look at him as he crouched at her side, and flinched again when he placed a hand atop her head. Her lungs burned for a breath, but she could not remember how to breathe.

"Foolish woman," he quipped as he gently stroked her hair. She forced herself to relax, to take a breath. "I am glad you fear me. You should fear me," he whispered, taking her chin in his hand to force her gaze to meet his. "So long as you remember to fear me, and to listen to that fear, then I could never be angry with you. No matter how many men I lose, no matter how much time I waste on this war, none of it will impede the future that I am rightfully due. I will claim my position as a god, and you will be a queen that fears and loves me as you should, and we will conquer a new land together. Even if you are the only one who remains at the end of this war. I only need one person to fear me as genuinely and honestly as you do. I can easily replace all the rest."

She felt awful at his reassurances, yet she also felt relieved. She hated to hear that everyone else was replaceable to him. People could not be replaced so easily, despite what he thought. Even Arlong understood that much. His brethren meant more to him than anyone, he would protect them as fiercely as she would protect those she loved. Even she was not someone he could just cast aside. No matter how many times she ran away, or how many mercenaries she tried to commission to murder him, he always dragged her back and claimed to forgive her. She had no doubt that the day Enel learned of her duplicity, he would have no reservations about killing her. He would not hesitate to end any life that dared defy his authority. Even her own.

"I know you were in the tree. I could hear your heart thundering with fear," he whispered, and she flinched again. He sank down to sit beside her, stretched out his legs, and leaned into her side. "And I know the wolf sensed you. He called for you, but I did not hear you answer."

She released her breath, even more relieved than before. "I did not dare say anything," she said softly. _Not with you hidden in the boughs, too,_ she thought to herself.

Enel hummed. "That was wise. He is not worthy of your attention, and you would have only given him a futile hope." She felt a finger curl in her hair, his hand brushed her spine. A shiver of fear raced through her when he gave it a sharp tug. "I could not see you. I saw the tree moving, changing its shape, pushing the wolf away before he vanished into the well. Did you hide from him?"

She forced herself to nod. "I hid against the trunk and prayed. Then the roots swallowed him up, and a knot opened up to drag me inside."

"Fate keeps him from you," he said. "Your lives are not meant to be woven together any longer. Soon the wolf will no longer haunt you there. He will not hold you back and you will finally be able to see all that you should. When he dies on my spear, then you will truly be free." He combed his fingers through her hair, grazed over her back. "In the meantime, you should continue your study and practice. It will come easier when you allow yourself to have faith in me."

She smiled up at him until her cheeks ached from the effort. She would never have faith in him, no matter how much she feared him, but he did have a point. If she had faith in herself, faith in Kid, faith in their friends, their allies, then nothing should hold her back, not even the crippling fear that threatened to freeze her when she most needed to fight.

"So, what blessings will we see this season?" he asked, turning her back to the runes in front of her.

She shook off her worries and forced herself to focus as the afternoon wore on. She refused to see anything negative in her runes that day. Ill-tidings would not be meant for her, or Kid, or the allies she had collected. Death, ruin, defeat – those were all fated for Enel, or Arlong, or anyone else who thought to stand in her way, to take her from where she wanted to be. Everything decidedly good, while Enel believed them to be signs of blessings for him, she knew to be for herself and Kid.

Her heart fluttered at the wunjo rune signaling joy and harmony in the winter. For such a dark and dreary season to have promises of happiness, she knew it had to be a sign that she would be reunited with her friends. And Kid. There would be a union come the winter, and she had no doubt that it would be with him.

Her smile came easier knowing that good times would come. Just as Bellemere always promised her.

Enel had been lying beside her as she practiced that afternoon; observing, testing, questioning. He sat up abruptly late in the afternoon, his head cocked to the side and a slow grin forming. "I believe it is time," he said. "Gather your things. I will have Ohm prepare a ship."

"A ship?" she asked, gaping up at him as he got to his feet.

"We have to fetch the survivors," he explained as he walked out of his room.

She rushed to tuck her runes into their bag and ran out to find Conis and Laki in her sitting room. She tossed her runes onto her bed and snatched her cloak.

"McKinley and the rest should be returning," she explained to the women. "I do not know what will happen next, so be ready."

They shared a curious look, but nodded in understanding. She did not wait for them to follow as she ran out to meet Enel in his main hall. He spoke with Ove and Satori at a hush beside a table where Ove's new slave sat with Law, devouring a hearty meal of pork and stew. Ove had insisted on feeding Kamikiri the best food the cooks could spare from the stores. He said that he preferred his men not be so scrawny and weak. He wanted meat on his bones. She would have been disgusted at his intentions, but if Kamikiri was permitted to eat as well as she fed Laki, then he might have a better chance to survive and flee. She would not say anything that might see the man abused more than he already would be.

"Nami," Enel called to her when she entered the room, waving her over. "The ship will be ready soon. We will meet Ohm at the docks."

"Of course. Should we bring Corazon along?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Law. "If McKinley and his men return as you have foreseen, they will need a healer. Corazon knows southern medicines and surgery. He would be a vital asset to save your men."

The king glowered at Law, but relented with a nod. "If it will ease your conscience," he said. "Are you willing to aid my men, Corazon?"

"I am curious to see what condition this wolf left them in," Law said. "If he is as vicious as he appears, it could prove an entertaining surgery."

"Then, shall we?" Enel waved for the doors, signaling they lead the way.

Ove slapped Kamikiri on the back and pointed to him in warning. "Behave," he growled.

The silent threat in his voice made Nami's blood run cold. She glanced at Laki and Conis where they hovered nearby, and signaled for them to do what they could to keep him from trouble. She would protect him as best she could.

Law fell in step beside her as they walked out of the hall. His hand grazed her back as he leaned in to whisper in Frankish, "Do you truly wish for me to save their lives?"

"They are pawns to Enel," she whispered back. "He views them as disposable."

His brow arched. "But you do not?"

She glared but could not find a proper answer. She wanted to say that no life is disposable, but in Law's home, a rat sat that she hoped withered away in misery, and a giant searched Svealand for her that she wanted nothing more than to see die. She was a hypocrite, but she would spare what lives she could. McKinley was misguided, struggling to maintain order beneath an oppressive king. She wanted to believe that he enforced the king's laws to protect his people. If he proved to be as cold-hearted as his king, as driven for power, then his life could be forfeit. She had not known him long enough to decide.

"He may be swayed when he realizes how little his king thinks of him," she reasoned to Law. "If his ends are to protect his people here, then his means can be corrected when he realizes the errors of his judgement."

Law chuckled. "You would forgive such a man? Your heart is too soft."

"Better to have a soft heart, then no heart at all," she growled at him.

He jerked back, stunned at her words. Confusion flit through his eyes before he released a long breath and drew away as though she had personally wounded him. She had not meant her callous words for him, but he seemed shaken.

"I did not mean-" she began to apologize, but he waved a hand to silence her.

His expression turned cold and distant as he stared ahead at the ship in the harbor. "I will do what I can to save the pawn's life," he promised, and then picked up his pace to walk ahead of her. The dismissal was clear.

She did not know how she offended him, but she would find a way to apologize after he had calmed down. Her heart ached thinking that she had said something to hurt him, though she did not understand why she should care. He was an ally, not a friend. She decided her guilt was merely out of worry. If she offended him too much, she may be liable to lose an asset. It was nothing more than fostering a good working relationship.

Ove filled Law's position beside her once they reached the ship. To her surprise, he extended a hand to help her into the ship. Despite her mistrust, she took the offered help and began to climb abroad.

"I hope your stomach is strong enough for this, Lady Nami," he whispered, a dark shadow in his eyes.

Her stomach flipped with unease that made her question if it was strong enough to witness the extent of Kid's rage. She swallowed thickly and gave Ove a curt nod. She would hold herself together. She had seen men and women strung up and tortured in Tingstad. She had seen homes lit on fire with people barred inside in Francia. She had seen her fair share of atrocities. What Kid did to his enemies would not be a pleasant sight, but it would be no different from what any other jarl or king would do in war.

Enel took her to stand at the prow of the ship with him. Ove and Law joined her, while Ohm took to the steering oar. Satori plopped onto a chest by the mast and called out to the oarsmen as they pushed away from the docks. Nami fidgeted uneasily as she leaned against the wale, staring out at the narrow fjord as the ship sliced through the water.

The king focused on the waters as they moved into the strait. He climbed onto the serpent's head and squinted off into the distance in search of McKinley's ship.

They had sailed for nearly an hour when Enel called out for Ohm to steer them toward the east. Nami looked ahead, noticed the open sails of a ship peek over an outcropping of rocks on the Svear coastline to their east. Law stepped forward as they rounded the bend, eager to see the condition of Enel's men.

She could not see well from their distance. She could make out no silhouettes of men on board. She knew something was there when she heard Enel hum and glanced up at his cruel smile. Law chuckled beside her and she scrutinized every inch of the ship for what she missed.

When she spotted the man that hung from the figurehead, she stepped back and clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle her gasp.

A hand gripped her shoulder. Ove stood behind her, watching her, but she did not think anything of his presence as she willed her body to remain still. Tremors raced through as she stared at the McKinley's limp form. His face was unrecognizable. He was so badly beaten, his face had swelled to the point she could not distinguish any of his features, save for the dark, bloody maw where his mouth should be. His tan skin was bruised a dark purple that it was nearly black. He had been bound with rope, his hands nailed over his head.

"Crucifixion," Enel mused. "How amusing he would sacrifice these men in such a way."

"Sacrifice?" she said, her voice a high squeak. "I thought you said they would return alive?"

"And they are alive," Law said as the ship came up alongside McKinley's. He pointed to the men bound and nailed to the mast and posts in the hull of the ship. One strained to lift his head as he panted and groaned in pain. "Barely," he added as he climbed onto the wale to leap over to the other ship. He went to a man and pressed a finger to his neck, above his pulse point, and glowered. "This one will not survive the night," he mused loud enough for them to hear before moving onto another to assess them. "I can not promise a good prognosis for any of these men," he said as he made his way to the prow to lean over and examine McKinley. "This one is in the most danger of death. I will need to treat him first if he is to have any chance of survival."

"Get them down," Enel called out.

"Be careful with McKinley," Law added. "One wrong move, and he will fall into the water and die."

Nami's hands would not stop shaking as she watched Enel's priests and men climb onto the other ship to pull the nails from their comrades' hands. They had to move the ship so that the figurehead hung over their hull as they pried at the nails in McKinley's hands. She wanted to help. She wanted to ease the suffering of those that were caught up in a war they should have no part in. Ove gripped tight to her shoulder and held her in place when she moved to catch McKinley as he fell abroad their ship. His body landed with a sickening thud. He did not move or make a sound to signal how much pain he should be in. She feared that it was already too late for him.

"This is that man's true nature," Ove whispered to her as she stared helplessly while Law rushed to staunch the wounds in McKinley's chest. Nami lost all breath at Ove's low Frankish growl. "There is no turning back for him. He will not cower, he will not hesitate. He will do much and more if it means he can have you back. He has claimed you for himself. Any who get in his way will meet this fate or worse."

She looked up at Ove in surprise. She could not read his expression, could not fathom what he was saying. She had not expected him to know Frankish. That meant he knew… _everything_.

"Choose your next move wisely," he warned. "See that the man you send to his death is the right one."

She swallowed the lump in her throat as her body went cold. The hard set of his gaze told her to be careful of what she said or did there. Enel was near, watching them both. They were both in grave danger with the words he just spoke.

Nami gave Ove a stuttered nod and drew away from him to catch her breath. Enel came toward them while she willed herself to calm, his bored gaze hiding whatever suspicions he might hold for their exchange.

"I heard one of the conscious ones say Jarl Eustass is solely responsible for the slaughter," he said, pointing toward the men laid out on the other ship. Ohm had directed his oarsmen to help bind whatever wounds they could while Law treated McKinley's more severe injuries. They would stabilize the men who might have a chance to survive before setting back to Oslo. "He said the wolf was mad with rage."

"Did he return them to you with a message?" she dared to ask.

Enel chuckled, but it was Ove who answered.

"Look at his legs," he said, nodding toward McKinley. His legs were twisted unnaturally at the knee. Blood soaked his trousers, and she thought she saw a creamy sliver of bone poke out from the torn wool. "He shattered them."

"A poetic way to refuse my offer of subjugation," Enel said. "It is difficult to kneel when one does not have knees." He waved toward Ohm. "Tie the ships together. We will tow them back to Oslo before they parish."

As the men rushed to get them underway for the trip back, Nami stared at Law's back as he examined McKinley's battered face. Kid had done this. Kid had done all of this. He had slaughtered sixteen men, and five more remained on the cusp of death. This was what happened when he was angered. This was what happened when someone dared to take her away.

A cold chill trickled down her spine. Ice water that nearly made her doubt the path she had chosen.

She refused to listen to that voice. She had known from the beginning that Kid was not kind, not to his enemies. She knew that this was in his nature. But it was not everything. She knew what else he held beneath the surface. She knew his anger was born from far more than just wounded pride and possessive desire to claim her again, even if he, himself, said that was what fueled his rage. She knew that he was upset at the loss of his people, the ruin of his village. He feared for his family and his friends, the people who stood at his side, fought for him, laughed with him, believed in him. His wrath was to protect them all. His anger had just cause.

She could lessen the damage he wrought. She could contain how many were lost in his rampage. And when it was over, she could soothe the beast and see the man she had come to know, the man she cared for and desired.

She stepped toward Law as the oars began to churn and pull them back to Oslo.

"Tell me how to help," she demanded.

He glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowed in thought. "You wish to help?"

She nodded and stood firm as he silently questioned her resolve.

"It will be a long surgery," he said. "He may not survive it."

She pursed her lips but refused to change her mind.

Law turned forward with a sigh and she feared he might dismiss her. "I could use the extra hands. Do not expect to get any sleep tonight."

She rolled up her sleeves and kneeled at his side. Law glanced at her from the corner of his eye, uncertainty in his gaze. Despite his doubts, she was determined to help. Even if she had to get blood on her hands, she would do what she felt was right.

"Just tell me what to do."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Wow, I wrote this in less than a week. I think the short chapters will definitely help get my schedule back on track._

 _Only references to make note of: At Ragnarok, humanity and a handful of the gods will survive by hiding within Yggdrasil. The tree shifting to hide Kid and Nami was a reference to that (I imagine the tree as a sentient being, tbh). The serpent, Nidhogg, is also called malice striker - suitable afterlife for any that die at Kid's hand. Nastrond is the lowest pits of Helheim, thought to be in the roots of Yggdrasil, somewhere. It is where the vilest lawbreakers (murderers, rapists, adulterers, etc) are said to go when they die, to have their corpses chewed on by Nidhogg and all other manner of snakes and wolves within that realm._

 _I'm not sure if I wrote Kid's berserker rage well enough to convey how his madness effects the way he fights. It's all very chaotic and fast and his rational mind doesn't quite register every little detail except for who is moving around him. It's a trance-like state of pure fury, where no one is safe from attack. Because of its danger, there was once a specific law in Iceland that made it a crime to fight and kill in that state._

 _And I think I warned before that I might allude more to Enel x Nami in this, so hopefully you don't mind the twisted sort of affection I write into their interactions. I firmly believe that if Enel had a chance to spend more time with Nami in canon, he would have developed a strange sort of adoration for her. Between her willingness to give in to fear for her own survival that made him 'respect' her wisdom, and her weather-manipulation abilities that he did state were impressive, he'd probably be really fond of her if he just stopped... ya know... trying to kill literally everyone, lol. I mean, if he saw what she was doing in canon now, oh yeah, he'd probably be crazy impressed and maybe try to steal her again because just imagine the combined damage they could do with their lightning. They could destroy the world together. In Enel's screwed up mind, that is a perfectly romantic date idea, lol._

 _But yeah, hope you guys are okay with the strange fluff between them (if you can call it that). It will not last._

 _Oh, and I giggled every time someone left a review about Nami's dreams and how they wished she and Kid could communicate in them, somehow. Kudos to those that commented on that - you totally predicted a plot point. Good job._


	32. Chapter 32

_Warning: Graphic descriptions of gore, brief mention of rape._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _Character of One's Heart_

Law had not lied when he warned the surgery would be long. Nami would not be deterred, no matter how many hours they labored over McKinley to keep him alive.

She led the procession into the hall and hollered orders at the women to gather everything Law needed in the other unused guest room, and to sweep away as much of the dust and grime and cobwebs as they could while the men slowly hefted McKinley and his men from the ships. McKinley's care would take precedence for Law, the other four would be placed in the front room to be seen to by Enel's healers.

Law grumbled about a lack of proper supplies as he assessed the room he would work in, so Nami ordered Conis to fetch his things from his home. She bid her to sprint if she had to, faster than Enel's best horses. Not a second could be wasted. In the meantime, Law called for fresh boiled water, the sharpest knives they could find, whet stones to sharpen them further, clean linen, straight wood for splints, smoldering coals and clean iron to heat, and their strongest bone needles and thread. He would make do with what he could until Conis returned with his things.

While Nami helped the men get McKinley onto a table, Law shed his blood-soaked gloves and rolled up his sleeves. She caught a glimpse of black ink painted over his forearms and hands, but had no time to ask about the tattoos as she helped Law tear away McKinley's tattered clothes and armor.

Some of Kid's blows had sliced through thick leather and hide as cleanly as they would have cut living flesh. If McKinley had not worn armor, he would have died from his wounds long before they found the ship.

"This one is the worst," Law muttered as he fingered the gash in McKinley's side. She would have thought that the wound in his shoulder was the worst. The flesh was tattered and shredded, and she had no doubt that Kid had torn sinew and scraped the bone with that wound. But then she watched Law's fingers disappear into the gash he had assessed, his lips tugged down in a stern frown. "Broth," he snapped to one of the servants, "with as many onions as you can spare."

Nami realized what worried him about that wound as the servants rushed out to prepare the broth. The onions would create a strong odor. If they could get McKinley to drink it, any wound in his stomach would leak and smell of the broth. If his stomach was cut, he would not survive for much longer.

While they waited for the broth, Law tightly bound McKinley's gut and then set to work on the shoulder wound. He cut away damaged tissue, had Nami hold the flesh open so he could stick his fingers into McKinley's chest and feel what else was damaged. He laughed suddenly and pulled his fingers from the wound, letting them hang there as they dripped with thick blood.

"I'll need tweezers if anyone would spare some," he said to one of the women.

"What is it?" Nami asked as she unclipped the pair that hung from her own brooch.

"Keep the wound open," he ordered without answering her question. He settled against McKinley's chest, braced his arm as he gently slipped the tweezers into the wound. His smile hardly wavered as he moved them about. McKinley groaned but did not move or thrash at the invasive surgery. "He is in too much pain to feel any more," Law mused before his wide grin returned and he gradually slipped the tweezers out. A red sliver of _something_ was trapped in them, tangled in stringy tissue. Law appeared fascinated by it, chuckled as he dipped it in the clean water, and held it up to examine closely. "He stabbed him so hard, he broke the tip of his knife," he said. "Judging by the damage to McKinley's face and legs, I suppose it was not enough to improve his mood."

Nami swallowed thickly as Law tossed the shard of metal away and returned to the wound. As he fished around McKinley's shoulder with the tweezers, Nami tried to focus on what he needed her to do so that McKinley might have a chance to be healed. She could not imagine the brutality Kid used in beating any of these men. She could not picture him enraged, filled with a wolf's fury as he sought his vengeance. It was hard enough seeing the results of his battle, it would be far worse to think of each strike, each slash, and the crippling pain they all endured.

Law pulled slivers of bone from McKinley's shoulder until he was satisfied that there would be nothing to hinder the wound's healing. He rinsed and flushed the wound with boiled water, sewed it shut, and moved on to the gash that worried him before. The broth was prepared, so he had Nami and another servant lift McKinley's head while Law perched a bowl of stinky broth at his lips. He worked slowly, patiently, to force McKinley to swallow one mouthful at a time, taking care not to spill the broth. When satisfied that he drank enough, Law examined the gash again.

He hummed as he pushed his fingers into McKinley's abdomen. Nami could see them moving, palpitating tissue, while Law hovered above and sniffed.

"Stomach is intact," he determined. "He was fortunate. Your gods must not want him."

She would not call that fortunate, not when he would likely suffer in life from that day forward. He would have been more fortunate if she had let him die, but she would give him a chance to live and perhaps serve a better purpose than the fodder Enel believed him to be.

"There is enough damaged viscera that he may bleed internally," Law said as he waved for her to hold the gash while he prepared another needle and thread. "I will have to cut him open again and drain the blood if that is the case, and he will likely still die if I cannot find the source of the bleeding."

Nami nodded in understanding. Even once they closed McKinley up, he would not be safe from death.

By the time Law had the gash flushed and sewn, Conis had returned with a box of his supplies. She was out of breath and collapsed into a chair the moment she set the box down. Then she noticed McKinley's body and the shattered knees that Law had saved for last. Her eyes widened, her shoulders heaved. She clasped a hand over her mouth, and Nami waved at Laki who had been watching nearby, waiting for commands but not actively helping. Nami could not blame her. McKinley had been one of her guards, he and his men had captured, tortured, and killed others from her tribe. Nami would not force her to help a man who had only brought ruin to her people.

"Get her out," Nami commanded Laki.

"Please," Law added in a muttered aside as he dug through his belongings. "I do not care to clean vomit from his wounds."

Laki grabbed Conis and practically carried the woman out. Nami heard Conis heave out in the corridor. Her unsteady stomach was likely due to the run through the village, though McKinley's twisted knees were an uncomfortable sight to behold. The damage bent his legs unnaturally. If he ever walked again, it would not be with ease.

Law pulled a large metal tin from his supplies, opened the lid, and nodded in approval. "I should have just enough," he said as he held it toward one of the servants. "Spread this liberally over his wounds. Take care not to disturb the threads. I will bind them once I'm done with his legs."

He waved for Nami to move down the table with him, leaving the torso to the servant. Law touched one of McKinley's knees and began to turn it. A pained groan escaped McKinley's throat and he struggled atop the table, arching and moving away from the servant.

"Ah, I forgot to mention. The poultice might sting a bit," Law said with a dark chuckle. He didn't seem to care a whit for his patient's discomfort. "Hold him still," he ordered the other women. "I cannot have him thrash while I'm working."

McKinley was surrounded on all sides by servant women, each one gently holding him down so that Law could examine his legs.

"Knife," he said, a hand held out in silent command. Nami snatched it from the table and placed it in his palm. "Hold the leg steady. Brace a hand on each side of his knee," he commanded while he poked and prodded the kneecap. Once she had her hands in place, Law cut into McKinley's knee. "Tweezers," he called once he had it open. A servant grabbed them and held them over to him. He slowly plucked slivers of shattered bone out of the knee, then took up the knife to open the joint further. He moved larger pieces to rest against what little was still intact, glowered a moment, then removed them entirely.

"Will he be able to walk again?" she dared to ask.

"No," he answered bluntly as he pushed on the largest piece of the kneecap and slipped it back into place with a sickening pop. "Perhaps if he dedicates himself to exercise, pretends that he is a babe taking his first steps again, he might be able to hobble about short distances with crutches."

He would be a cripple, nearly useless in battle, hobbled as a guard. She wondered what Enel might do with him then. He did not seem the type who would take pity on a crippled man.

She shook away her worries as Law switched to McKinley's lower leg. It had been broken in the strike, but Law reset it with a sharp push. The servants had brought smooth dowels for him to use as splints. Law had her hold them in place, keeping the leg stiff while he bound it tight. He sewed the knee shut, wrapped cloth tight around it, but was gentler with placing it over the joint itself.

"Fetch something to prop this leg with," he ordered a servant. "Pillow or furs, nothing too firm."

A minute later, they had a fur folded beneath McKinley's leg to keep it elevated, the knee slightly bent. With that leg done, Law switched sides with Nami to work on the other leg. He removed the shattered bone that would not mend itself, reset the broken bones, and then splinted and wrapped the limb. When he was finished with the legs, he moved back to the torso to inspect the poultice. McKinley's breathing was ragged, but steadier than it had been. He seemed to have fallen unconscious as they worked.

They wrapped McKinley's torso, and then Law set to work on the man's battered face. He prodded the swollen flesh, hummed in thought.

"Nose first," he muttered before taking his thumbs to press against each side of McKinley's broken nose. "Nami, hold his head steady."

She moved to the end of the table to brace McKinley's head, allowing Law to put all his leverage into snapping the crooked nose back into place. He had to do it three times before he was satisfied that it was as straight as it could be. The nose bled freely once it was set. Law tore up a linen cloth and shoved the ends into the nostrils, and then waved her away so he could examine the rest of McKinley's head.

"Broken orbital bone," he murmured as he pressed around the left eye. He peeled McKinley's eyelid back, hummed at the dark red and purple globe where the eye should be. "Have water and clean linen ready," he said as he snatched up his knife.

She grabbed what he needed while he cut away the clot to see what remained of the eye. Blood flowed from his eye like tears, streaking down his temple to drip on the table. Nami blotted away what she could without interfering with Law's work. In the end, there was no saving the eye. Kid had ruptured it with his blows, pulverized the eye beyond recognition. His other eye was damaged, the white turned red, but it remained intact and Law said that it should heal well enough that McKinley would retain his sight, imperfect though it may be.

The empty eye socket was washed and bound, poultice was applied to the cuts and scrapes on his cheek and jaw, his mouth was cleaned of broken and loose teeth, and then Law finished cleaning the smaller wounds sprinkled around McKinley's torso.

By the time he was done, Nami was exhausted and starved. She sent the servants to fetch them a meal and requested they find fresh clothes for Law to change into. Her dress was stained, as well, but she would change after she ate, and then get some rest while others watched over the injured soldiers.

The servants rushed off to follow her orders, leaving her alone with Law. She stretched her tense neck and shoulders. She had feared that any breath, any wrong movement might interfere with Law's work, or hurt McKinley further, and had grown stiff from the tension. Law did not seem to share the same discomfort as he casually wiped the blood from his hands. He appeared relaxed, despite the glower he wore while he stared at his patient. But this was normal for him. She was not practiced in healing.

"Thank you for you hard work, Corazon," she said in Frankish.

Law grunted, his frown deepened, and his gaze slid to her. "Are you certain it was wise to save this man? He will suffer a life of pain because of your wolf's torture."

She winced as her shoulder popped and then sagged forward to roll her neck. She refused to feel guilty for McKinley's suffering. She had seen that his life was spared, that was the mercy she gave him, but his hands were not clean. He was not innocent in the suffering his people endured under Enel's rule, he had imprisoned and overseen their beatings and executions. He carried out Enel's judgements, stoked the peoples' fears. His reasons may be just, but his actions were not.

"This is war," she reasoned. "He is fortunate to be alive at all. He chose the side he fights on, chose the king he serves. If he wished to avoid this fate, he should have considered the paths he took in life."

"I thought you lot clamored for a chance to die in battle, so that you could go to your gods and reside in their halls," he said.

"It is an honorable way to die, but it would be foolish to rush toward death," she explained. "Even Odin has said that it is better to be cripple than burning on a pyre. There is nothing a dead man can do. It is one thing to cower from battle, to save yourself and your limbs; it is another to fight courageously, or feign courage in the face of a greater foe, and come out with your life intact, even if your body is not. He and his men fought honorably, and now he has the opportunity to live honorably."

Law chuckled. "I see. Perhaps I was wrong to claim that your heart was soft. There is an edge to it if you can rationalize another man's torture." He knocked on the table beside McKinley's head, drawing her attention to the bruised mess hidden beneath bloodstained linen. "Though I cannot say the same for the man who did this. This is the work of a heartless beast."

Nami's ire was pricked at the insult in Law's tone. "I would never say that he is heartless, nor is he a beast. He is a man capable of brutal acts, and I do not think you are in the position to judge him." He glared, and she leaned over the table to glare back. "You were exiled for murder, were you not? I understand you beheaded your victim, cut his hands off, and sewed them where his head should be, stuck in very rude gestures for a far lesser offense. At least Kid did not crucify these men for pissing on his shoe."

Though she would not be surprised if he would. Men and their pride often drove them to do idiotic, barbaric things.

Law's lip curled into a sneer as he tossed his bloody linen onto the table. "That was not the reason I killed him," he hissed quietly. "It is the reason I gave, but it is not the reason he died. I am not so heartless as to murder a man for so little." He turned away, hiding his expression from her. "There was a family that was murdered at his hand, for no other reason than he was bored and felt insulted when the woman refused to entertain him. A Father. Mother. Two children. He tortured them. Made the children watch as he killed their father, raped their mother, and then had them meet the same fate." Her stomach rolled; she braced herself on the table and swallowed down bile. "He was in the king's favor because of his prowess in battle, his crimes would be overlooked. The Earl of Hedeby might have tried him, but I doubt she would want to war with her own king, not without extensive support. So, I hunted him to the border of Saxony, found him in a drunken revelry with his men. He did piss on my shoe, that much is true, but it is only because I put it there. He had wandered from his band, was vulnerable. They didn't even hear him shout before I slit his throat."

Nami gaped at the admission. She realized why he had reacted to her comment of being heartless. He had more heart and morality than others might see, more than even he might see within himself. It was twisted and dark and sadistic, but it held some sense of honor.

"I did not mean that you were heartless," she whispered as the servants returned with a clean tunic, soap, and fresh water for Law.

"I will need another basin," Law said as they set the water on a table, a clean yellow tunic beside it. "No water in it, and a bowl or cup to dip into the clean water."

Nami waited as they fetched what he needed, struggling against the urge to fidget as Law loosened his tunic. A single servant returned with the empty basin and a clean cup. She informed them that the morning meal would be ready shortly, bowed her head when Nami waved to dismiss her, and scampered off to see to their food.

"You need to wash, too," Law said as he shed his tunic, revealing more tattoos on his shoulders and chest and back.

She had not expected him to have so much decoration, least of all the hearts on his chest and shoulders. Most surprising were the white patches of skin that marred his darker complexion. They looked like old scars, but nothing like any she had seen. Some were too large and cleanly cut to be battle wounds, and some were in places that would have been fatal if skewered by a sword or arrow. He had mentioned a plague in his birthplace. Were the scars from that illness?

"Nami," Law called, snapping her from her inspection of his body. She shook her head to clear her curiosity and went to the basins when he waved her over. Once she was in reach, he grabbed her hands and held them over the empty basin, ladled water with the cup, and then poured it over her stained hands. "It's cleaner to wash this way," he explained when she furrowed her brows at him. He nodded to the soap while he poured water over his hands. "Muslims wash so that the same drop of water does not touch their skin twice. When you wash in still water, you are just sitting in filth and impurities."

She nodded in understanding as she scrubbed the blood from her fingers. As they washed in silence, Nami stole glances at Law, watched as he picked at the stains beneath his nails, and then helped rinse the soap from him so he could scrub his skin all over again.

She peeked at the heart on his chest, felt her own tighten at the strangely familiar swirl of black ink. Nojiko's was blue and much smaller, set just between her collarbones. The sight still kindled memories that made her chest ache as guilt gnawed on her conscience.

"Is something wrong?" he asked while he rinsed her hands and then his own.

"Your tattoos… I had not expected to see them on you," she said. "They remind me of someone…" He grunted in response, but said nothing else, so she pressed on. "My sister." He glanced up, silently bid her to explain. She gestured to the heart on his chest. "She has a smaller heart, on her collar." She giggled. "Without the face in the middle."

His lips parted in surprise as he looked down at his chest.

"She had our village healer tattoo her after Arlong came. He had marked me." She reached up to grip her left shoulder. "I hated it. I thought that it ruined me, turned me into a monster just like him. She marked her own flesh in support of my sacrifices, and to remind me that I wasn't alone."

She cleared her throat and snatched the soap to scrub her hands. Law traced a finger over the black circle of the grinning face at the top of the large heart, and then silently returned to his washing.

"Mine is for my benefactor," he whispered. "The man who saved my life. The man who helped me find what little bit of a heart I still had left. My _Corazon_."

There was reverence in the way he spoke that word, that name. A love she was all too familiar with. She bowed her head and hid her smile. She felt that she understood why Loki had chosen this man to aid her, rather than any other healer or southern doctor in the world.

"What of the marks on your hands?" she dared to ask. "If the hearts are for your _Corazon_ , what about the crosses and circles… And those letters? Are those another Latin dialect?"

"An Italian dialect," he said with a nod as he brushed his fingers over the markings. " _Morte_. Death. The round crosses on my hands are stigmata, the circles on my forearms are crowns of thorns - symbols of sacrifice. There is a saying in Latin – _memento mori_ ; remember that you must die. My tattoos are reminders of my mortality, as well as the mortality of all those I meet."

Her smile turned solemn. Such a grim reminder to bear on his skin, but if he had lost his family in a massacre, and then the man who later saved his life, she supposed death was all he knew, all he understood. And yet he studied to be a doctor, to fight against death despite knowing it would always win in the end.

She took his hands to rinse the last of the soap and blood away. "As I said," she whispered, "I did not mean that you are heartless." She glanced up at his quizzical expression. "To wear death on your skin and still fight against it – you must have a very strong heart. I apologize for any offense I made."

Law's jaw slackened, but whatever response he intended to make was interrupted by a throat clearing behind her. His eyes shot up, and then narrowed in annoyance as he slipped his hands from hers. Ove stood in the door, his arms crossed and a stern glare set on Law.

Law cleared his throat. "No offense taken, Lady Nami," he said with false formality. "You should change and rest. It has been a long night."

She was exhausted, but she did not appreciate the interruption. She appreciated the judgement in Ove's gaze even less. She snatched up a linen towel to dry her hands while Law slipped into the borrowed yellow tunic.

"I will see that a sleeping pallet is arranged for you in here," Nami said to Law while she glared at Ove. "If you wish to return to your hovel, I will see what healers can be spared to watch McKinley in your stead."

Law grunted in response.

"Get some rest, Corazon," she said as she stormed toward the door. "And thank you again for your work."

She ignored his next responding grunt and came to a stop in front of Ove. He straightened his spine as she glared up at him. She was still uncertain where he stood in all that had happened. He spoke Frankish, he knew all she had schemed with Law, yet he had not spoken to Enel about it. And she suspected that he had taken Kamakiri as a slave for her sake more than his own. They had much to discuss and little time to do so. If he was there to guard her in Kid's stead, to aid her however she needed while spying on the king, then she had to know why he led her to believe otherwise.

But first, his obvious disapproval of her friendship with Law.

"Whatever you think is happening here," she hissed up at him, "you are wrong." His lip curled in a sneer, but she smacked his shoulder to quiet whatever rebuttal he had to make. "Quit growling at him. He is a strong and useful ally, do not ruin that for me."

She shoved by him and turned for the main hall. She needed to eat, and she needed to find a servant to see to Law's bedding. She could see thin streams of early morning light peeking through the rafters. They had worked through the night to save McKinley. They would all need to rest that day.

She made it two steps and ran directly into the king. She staggered back in surprise while a firm grip on her shoulder kept her steady and on her feet.

"Ah, excuse me, my lord." She bowed her head and held tight to her dress to keep her hands from trembling. Had he overheard the exchange with Ove? Did he listen to her conversation with Law? Not for the first time, she wondered if he feigned ignorance of other languages. What if he knew everything?

"I was just coming to see how McKinley fares," Enel said as he released her.

She took another step back. Ohm stood behind the king, his flat gaze fixed on her, but she could not read what he may be thinking. Enel at least wore a wry smile, though she knew better to think it was meant to be warm.

"Corazon finished a short time ago. I believe it is too soon to determine his fate, but for now he rests peacefully, so I trust he will recover in time," she said.

"Has he spoken at all?" Enel asked.

"No. He lost what little consciousness he had as Corazon worked."

"That is unfortunate, but I can wait for him to wake to learn what other messages Eustass sent with him." She flinched when he reached for her but forced herself to remain still as he brushed a hair from her face. "You look weary. You should rest today."

She found the energy to smile for him. "I was on my way to do that. I need to see to a sleeping pallet for Corazon, though. And I would like a good meal, myself."

"I will have them send your breakfast to your quarters. I have already informed the servants to treat Corazon as a guest. They will see to whatever he needs while he cares for his patient."

Relief flooded through her, which only made the full weight of her exhaustion settle onto her shoulders. She sagged forward with a long sigh. If Corazon was to be a guest in the hall, that meant he was safe for the time being, and perhaps it meant that Enel would not cast McKinley aside too quickly.

"Thank you, King Enel," she said, too tired to feel fear when he chuckled, or think to move away when he grasped her shoulder and turned her toward her quarters. His touch was gentle enough that she did not believe it to be a threat. "Ah, what of the other survivors? Are they resting well?"

"I freed them from their suffering," Ohm answered.

Nami straightened, gaping up at the priest. "You…"

Enel's hand tightened on her shoulder. "They were in pain, their legs were too damaged to be of use to them again, and they had no further information for me," he said without remorse. "They served their purpose and are no longer needed."

They killed them. They took the lives that Kid had spared. Enel's own men were not safe from him. She knew that she should not be surprised, yet still she found it too absurd to believe. Those men deserved some reward, some accommodation for facing his enemy and returning to them alive. They may be crippled, but even a cripple could knock an arrow from atop the wall and defend the hall from invasion.

McKinley may not be as safe as she thought he was.

"Do you disagree?" Enel asked.

She shook her head, tossed away her revulsion. This was for the best. If Enel killed his own men, then that saved Kid the trouble. Perhaps it could be used to her advantage, too. His militia may begin to question their loyalties if they realize how expendable they were to the king. Men did not often appreciate being used as fodder, their lives of little more value than a slave's.

"No," she said, forcing a smile. "I trust that your decision was the wisest." She turned her smile toward Ohm, hoped it looked as grateful as it should. "And I trust your priest spared them from further pain. They have earned a good rest."

"They will have it," Ohm said.

"And you deserve a rest," Enel said, chuckling as he nudged her back down the hall. "One that is less permanent, of course."

If he questioned why her laughter sounded false, she would blame it on her weariness.

"I will sleep for a few hours, but later I wish to practice my sight with you, King Enel," she said as he escorted her to the walkways outside.

"This afternoon, then," he agreed. "Rest well, Lady Nami."

She walked to her quarters alone, only the heavy weight of his gaze on her back to remind her that she must tread carefully. She could not make her next move too soon. She had asked much of him to spare Laki, and even if he did not care for his men's lives, this loss should test his patience if he began to suspect her loyalties lie elsewhere.

She would rest that day and return to the visage of an adoring lady that evening. When the time was right and the king sufficiently complacent, she would make her next move.

* * *

Enel watched as Nami made her way down the walkway to her room. She knew he watched judging by the tension in her shoulders and the way her hands dug into her skirts, but she resisted any urge to glance back at him. She tried so very hard to hide the extent of her fear, but even she must know it was futile. He saw everything. It was adorable how desperately she tried, though.

"My lord," Ohm whispered behind him, "what do you wish to do with McKinley?"

Enel slowly smiled. "You wish to free him, too," he said. A statement, not a question. His priest longed to free all of them from the constraints of life, from the pain and agony that came trapped in a mortal vessel. "Let him suffer a while longer. I will humor Lady Nami's need to save him. When she sees that he has no use for her, then you may do as you wish."

"May I ask, King Enel, why you give her so much freedom?" Ohm asked. Enel glanced at him, brow arched in his curiosity. "She is clearly working against you."

He chuckled. "Here I thought I was the only one to notice." He turned into the main hall when Nami's amber hair vanished inside. He nodded for Ohm to follow and took care to keep his voice low lest the mercenary be near to overhear their conversation. "I told it true when I said this is a test laid before me by the old gods. It is a game. I will be victorious in the end, but what amusement is to be gained if I win too easily? No matter how they guide her hand to move their pieces, I will have already prepared for my next move in anticipation. I will block them at every turn, and I will prove that I am truly greater than all the gods combined."

"And when you have found your victory, what will be done with her?"

They passed the guest room that now acted as a hospital for the exiled surgeon. Ove sat inside, growling in Frankish to Corazon, who did not appear the least amused with whatever lecture he was forced to hear. Corazon was haggard from a full night's work, his lips curled in a sneer as he hissed at his companion. Whatever alliances had been forged while he was away would not be easily kept if those two disliked each other so much.

Enel left them to their argument, whatever it may be, and carried on toward his throne with Ohm close behind. Satori and his brothers sat at a table awaiting their breakfast with eager anticipation. He left them be. His other priest had not questioned Nami's presence, or his favor of her. Satori thought her beneath him, even if his king spoiled her with attention none of the other priests received. She was the king's new entertainment, not a threat to be wary of. A grave mistake, but Enel would overlook the foolish ignorance of his priest. It would not harm him, after all.

He waved for Ohm to sit close as he reclined in his throne. His priest waited patiently as Enel signaled for a servant girl to bring him a plate of fruit and cup of ale for his own breakfast. He did not deign to answer his question until he had a bite of an apple and sip from his cup.

"When this war is through, she will be mine. _Unequivocally,_ " he said. "She will have no one left. Her very survival will hinge on binding herself to me. The woman is far from stupid, she will do whatever she must to cling to this life, no matter what corpses lay at her feet."

"And when she is bound to you?" Ohm asked.

"I will be a god and she will be my priestess, heralding in a new age in a new world, my true kingdom, the one I am due. I will rule over endless lands, rich soil and stone, gold and jewels unlike any we have ever seen in this northern wasteland. My empire will outshine all others, with a queen at the helm that embodies every treasure I claim, and the fear I strike in my people." He hid his sneer with his cup. "And when I have achieved that greatness, I will return to these lands and crush every heretic that dared to question my glory. All of Midgard will be mine."

Ohm remained silent for a long moment as he reflected on all that Enel had said. But eventually he shifted; Enel glanced sidelong at his dark frown. He knew that Ohm could not be particularly worried that the woman was a threat, he was merely more expedient about eliminating those that dared attempt to threaten him in any way.

"I understand that she is your cousin, distant though it may be, but why hold on to her after? You can find any woman to be your priestess, any man to be your priest. This woman does not revere you as she should. She works to undermine your authority as we speak. She deserves no place in your kingdom," Ohm said, surprisingly frank in his doubts.

Enel laughed at how little his priest saw. His interest in the woman had little to do with their relation, little to do with how he could use her once this game was done.

He set his fruit and ale aside and leaned toward Ohm. "Because she is precious," he whispered, chuckling when Ohm's brows knit in confusion. "Refresh my memory, Ohm, but what excuse does the warrior Wiper always give when he invades my lands? What were his reasons for refusing to kneel?"

His question did nothing to remove the priest's confusion, but he answered, his words slow and measured as he tried to make sense of what this had to do with his question. "For his ancestors," he said. "His pride as their descendant, as the one who carries Calgaras' berserker spirit, the one who protects his people."

Enel nodded sagely. "And for what reason will Jarl Eustass launch his attacks on me? For what reason does he refuse to pay my taxes?"

Ohm's brow knit tighter. "We attacked his people and took his woman. What does that have to do with the other?"

Enel slapped him on the back as he laughed harder. "Ah, don't you see? The reasons they give are not the true reasons they act out against me. They are fools who refuse to admit what truly drives them, what drives all mortal creatures. Pride. Anger. Desire. Lust. Those are nothing compared to the most basic emotion, the most basic force in their heart." Ohm still did not understand. " _Fear_ ," Enel explained and watched as understanding dawned on Ohm's face.

"Fear drives them all. Every war this world has seen has fear at its roots. The Christians and Hebrews and Muslims all fear that their book, their God, their saviors and messiahs and prophets will be replaced by another, that they are wrong. The Northmen fear that their livelihoods and ways will be lost as their trade routes are overtaken by Christians. The English fear that the French will seize their kingdoms, just as the Norse have, and the French fear the same of the Moors, and the Rus, and the Slavs, and the Mongols, and the Romans. They all fear the same thing, and thus they war and hate and murder each other," he explained. "Wiper fears that he and his people will be destroyed, that he will not live up to his ancestor's image, that his people will not respect him if he dares submit to a greater being. And Eustass…" He trailed off to laugh. "Why, his fear is the oldest, basest of them all, the one that has spurred more wars in this world than most men would be comfortable to admit. He may fear for his people's well-being, yes, but if that was the case, then he would be better served to submit. He may fear a loss of respect or sovereignty, but in that case, he would have attacked me the moment he learned of what had happened. No, that man fears something far greater, something that stalls him, something that makes him hesitate to act too rashly."

"He fears for his woman's life?" Ohm asked, prompting Enel to bark another loud laugh as he stood from his throne. He had Satori's attention now, as well as the attention of his guards and servants.

"His woman's life? Ha! Close, but no. I suspect he would rather see her die than what he fears most. He fears that he will lose her in a far worse way, and this fear is what drove all those men mad in the tales of Nami's foremothers. He fears that she will be possessed by another, claimed by another, and come to love that man more than she ever loved him."

"Then why not attack immediately?" Ohm asked. "If he fears that so much, then why allow Lady Nami to remain here another day?"

"Because he knows the stories, he knows what will happen if he acts rashly, and that is another thing he fears, all tangled up in his fears for her here. _He fears his own failure_." Enel grinned. "He is aware that this is a test, a game to prove who is greater, who is more deserved of glory. To the victor go the spoils."

"And Lady Nami is the spoils," Ohm said. "But what does this have to do with the favor you grant her? Why show her such leniency? Why humor her subterfuge?"

Enel's amusement waned. "Because… she is precious." His response did not appease Ohm. "She _fears_ me."

"She is not the only one," Ohm reminded with a wave around the room. "We all fear you."

Enel hummed. "You do, but her fear is…" He pursed his lips in thought. "It is genuine. Unlike my other enemies, she does not pretend that her fear is something else. She acknowledges that she is afraid, though she may try to hide how it makes her tremble. She acknowledges that her actions are driven by her fear. She embodies fear in its truest, rawest form, and _that_ fear is the fear that created the gods people venerate all over this world. Mortal minds needed a reason for the pestilence, the famine, the war, the death, for all the ills good men must face in such a cold, merciless world, for all that they cannot control. _Fear itself_ is _God_. Her fear of me will make me the god I truly am." He smiled, pleased with his reason. "As long as she continues to fear me, I will continue to give her my favor, and humor her plots against me. Nothing she does will hinder me. Her fear will only grow stronger when she sees all that I am capable of."

He sank back down onto his throne as Ohm silently considered his words. Satori stirred at his table, cleared his throat. Enel waved for him to speak.

"What of you, King Enel?" Satori asked, a twisted smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"What of me?" he asked as he picked up his cup for a deep drink of ale.

"What do you fear that drives you to war with these men?"

Enel glared at the priest. How dare he make such a claim?

"I mean…" Satori rushed to explain, a hand held up in apology. "You should have nothing to fear, yet you send us to battle and war with our neighbors. If it is not fear, then what are your reasons?"

Enel forced himself to relax. His priests were strong, but they did not have the insight he had, they did not understand the world as he did. They thought all wars were the same, but that was where they remained ignorant and misguided.

"I do not war," he said matter-of-factly. "I incite wars. I spark fear in the hearts of those who dare think to stand in my way. And with that fear and the wars conjured from it… _I conquer_."

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Another short chapter, but more plot necessary stuff laid out._

 _Admittedly, a very LawNami sort of chapter, too, lol. I'm sure that makes some of you happy. As I said, this is not a love-triangle fic, at least not from Nami's point of view. Everyone else, on the other hand, well... Nami and Law could bicker and feud constantly, have no moments of warmth, and Kid will somehow still find a reason to be jealous, so misunderstandings are bound to happen._

 _With Law's tattoos - I had to find some way to explain them for this world and fit them to their religious connotations, so hopefully they make sense. For 'Death' on his fingers - in old English, it's six letters long. In fact, in most of the vulgar Latin languages it's about six letters, but since Law is from northern Italy, I figure I could use modern Italian and fudge when the Italian dialects began to evolve in the regions._

 _I will explain the scars another time, but they are related to his childhood illness._

 _I had a lot of fun going in to Enel's point of view and lending better insight into his thoughts about Nami, and the fact that, yes, he is very much aware of what she is up to. I hadn't entirely planned to give his side, but inspiration was sparked. I'll do more points of view with him later, too. And, tbh, Enel has a very good point when he says that 'Fear is God' - the concept of gods is rooted in explaining a world that could not yet be explained, good and bad, and giving reason to all that happens beyond our control, and perhaps lends a bit of control by giving humans some powerful entity to request help from when they have no idea if they have the power themselves._

 _Anyway, thank you everyone for your reviews after the last two chapters! I really appreciate them. XD_


	33. Chapter 33

_Warning: Violence, gore, cannabis/hashish use._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The First Glimmer of Hope_

McKinley woke late in the day, just as the servants began to set out supper. His flesh burned from a fever and he thrashed violently on the pallet Law had transferred him to. Through broken and swollen lips, he cried out, "Wolf." Over and over, he hollered it. Bloody spittle ran down his chin, splattered over the faces of the servants that raced to hold him down at Law's command.

Nami stood with Enel and Ohm, watching as Law braced McKinley's head and forced a spoonful of green-brown paste into his mouth. He slid the clean spoon out, held McKinley's mouth shut, and tilted his head back to force him to swallow whatever concoction he created. She watched with bated breath as McKinley thrashed less and less. Law and the servants eased their grips as he began to settle. His breathing evened out, his body went boneless with sleep, and Nami let her breath out in a rush of relief.

Law sat back with a disgruntled sigh, glaring at the blood and spit on his hands. "The hashish should ease his pain and fever, as well as help him sleep," he said as he grabbed a linen cloth to wipe his hands clean. "I could use a censer to burn dried hemp leaves and seeds. The scent will keep him calm. If he wakes up thrashing like that again, he'll tear out his stitches and bleed to death."

"You should just let him die," Ohm muttered.

Nami glared and prepared to argue, but Enel held up a hand to quiet them both. "That will not be necessary, Ohm." The king looked to one of the servants. "Search through some of the trinkets in my hoard for a censer. There is one from India that might suffice for Corazon's uses. Is there anything else you require?"

"More linen and water."

Enel nodded at the servants, sending them to fetch what Law needed. "And what of the prisoner you keep in your home? Would you like a guard sent to watch over him?"

"He has no hands, is locked in a cage, and is too weak to survive if he did somehow break out." Law turned to her with a grin. "And I suspect Lady Nami would not mind if he starved alone for a few days."

She did not mind, but Law had said that Nezumi was of use to him, so she doubted he would leave him to suffer for long.

Enel laughed. "No, I do not doubt that." He turned for the door with Ohm. "I will send your supper in shortly. Come along, Nami."

"I'll be right there. I would like to call for Eir to aid Corazon in his work," she said.

"If you feel that you must," Enel said, shrugging. "Do not be long."

As soon as the king and his priest left, Nami rushed to kneel beside Law. "How is he doing? Truly?" she whispered in Frankish.

Law glowered as he pulled the fur blankets off McKinley's body and then peeled away the bandages on his stomach. "He did not tear his stitches this time and there has been no evidence of internal bleeding. None of his wounds appear infected at this stage, but the fever is worrisome."

"And the hashish will help?"

Law nodded. "The strain I had him ingest was combined with willow bark, the latter is especially good for fever, but the hashish will ease his pains and soothe his mind so he can sleep. Only rest will allow his body to heal."

Nami gnawed on her lip as she thought of how painful McKinley's recovery would be. Perhaps Ohm was right. Death may be a greater mercy.

"If his pain is too much for the hashish, I have some opium from the east that will help," Law said quietly. "I do not have much, so I would prefer not to use it unless absolutely necessary. Not unless your king has his own stash of opium here."

"I'm not sure. We have received some trade from the Mediterranean routes recently, but I only know of the fruit the merchants brought, not medicine."

"I will ask his healers." Law replaced the bandages before leaning over to catch her gaze. "Did you sleep at all?"

She grimaced at the subtle rebuke in his tone and shrugged in answer. She tried to rest, but her mind could not find peace. There was too much to do still, and her dreams only reminded her of that. She had to seal alliances and find a way to send a message to Kid without Enel questioning her intentions. She did not know how much longer Kid would wait before making his own move. If the gods had bound him from coming after her, he might have no choice, but she doubted their chains would hold him for long. His anger would get the best of him if he had to wait too long.

If only she had a way to soothe his ire from Oslo.

"I will make a pill of hashish for you to ingest before bed and have Conis search for another censer," Law said, breaking into her thoughts. "Burn the herbs tonight and sleep. You will be of no good to anyone if you continue to walk about looking half in the grave."

She glowered at his remark, though was silently grateful for the offer. "What of you?" she asked, pointedly staring at the dark circles beneath his eyes. "You look as though you never sleep."

Law snorted. "Worry not. I will sleep well with my patient once I am brought a censer."

"Should you really be sleeping while your patient is so close to death?"

He shrugged indifferently. "He will be fine for a few hours."

"And do you truly mean to leave Nezumi to rot?" she asked, frowning. "I thought he was of use to you."

"He is, which is why I told Ove to check on him from time to time."

"And Ove is willing?" She cocked her brow at him. Ove may be working to aid her in some manner, but he did not seem overly fond of her ally. She could not imagine him doing Law any favors.

Law smirked. "I said he was free to do whatever he desired to my captive, so long as he left him alive. He seemed satisfied enough with that." He sighed. "I should have told him that I need the rat to be sane, as well," he mused, then brushed it off with a shrug as he gathered his things to search through pouches of medicine. "Go eat your supper, Nami. If McKinley decides to die tonight, there is nothing you or I can do to stop it now."

Resigned to do nothing but wait, Nami stood and turned to leave.

"If nothing else, feel hopeful that your gods believe this man still holds use in this realm," Law said softly. She glanced down at him to see that he stared at McKinley, his gaze distant and solemn. He looked up and graced her with a confidant smirk. "If for no other reason than to test my skills and prove my own value to you. And I will not fail that test."

"Thank you, Corazon. Rest well tonight."

"You, as well."

Nami spent most of supper watching the people in the hall as she quietly ate. Enel and Satori laughed as they spoke of the ark's progress. Ohm remained silent when not idly insulting his peer. Of the warriors that ate in the hall, Nami noticed a stark contrast in moods. Those that made up Enel's main army unit were in good spirits, their appetites large and the conversations jovial. The militia soldiers that focused on affairs within Oslo, or collected taxes from the surrounding territory, were sullen and hardly ate as they cast glances toward the hall leading to Law's temporary hospital room.

Sympathy knotted in her chest. They had lost twenty of their comrades and their leader's life depended on the skills of a stranger. The only one that did not seem worried was the boy McKinley had been assigned as a ward, but he had not had the time to bond with his new guardian. The other men had years with McKinley, and most were born to the area, had followed McKinley's lead when Enel arrived and bent their knee to the new king without a struggle.

Their brother suffered on the precipice of death and they could do nothing but wait.

Unable to stomach the rest of her meal, Nami allowed Laki to take her plate to her room and steal whatever she wanted from it. She stood from her table, ignoring Enel's curious gaze, and walked over to the militia tables. She greeted the confused men with a smile, took a pitcher of ale from a passing servant, and took a seat. If she could do nothing more for their captain, she could at least try to set their hearts at ease and distract them from their worries.

It took some time, and four pitchers of ale, but she got the men to laugh. Nothing more than somber chuckles as they shared stories about McKinley and the men they lost. Most of them had grown up in Oslo, or came from the surrounding farms, and they all respected their leader, knew him since they were children, followed him without question or doubt. They told her that he cared for his village and the people he protected, wanted nothing more than to maintain order and peace for them, no matter what it took.

She was right to believe that his actions were not taken out of cruelty or malice. He upheld the king's laws to keep his people from revolting and dying in the war that would ensue. He was protecting them. She did not agree with his methods, but she supposed she was not in a position to belittle him for it. She sat at Enel's side, ate his food, clad herself in his riches, all while his people suffered in fear outside his walls. And it had been the same in Tingstad, where she had garnered a reputation as a witch because of her cold glares and unyielding punishment against any stupid enough to take up arms against Arlong – at least against those she made it to before Arlong or his brothers. Her beatings and the fines she leveled on them were a mercy compared to what Kuroobi would do to them if he got to them first. Bruises mended easier than broken bones, and better to part with a few trinkets of gold or silver than one's life.

"There were rumors once, before the king arrived, that McKinley attempted to court your handmaiden," one of the guards whispered.

"Conis?" She stared in surprise at the piece of gossip. She had not expected to learn that sort of information, but it made her realize that she had not bothered to learn anything about the people in Oslo outside of the king and his priests, as well as Conis. But Conis had not told her of this. "What happened?"

"Those were just rumors," another guard huffed. "He visited her and Pagaya often, that was what started the whispering."

"I swear he had his eye on her," the first said. "But she refused him."

A third guard snorted. "Of course, she did."

"He was captain of the previous king's guard before, correct?" Nami asked, looking around as the men bobbed their heads in answer. "Why would she refuse a man with such a good position? The political advantage alone would benefit her and her father. And his pay would see they lived more comfortably than they do now."

The third man beckoned her to lean closer as he glanced around the hall. " _Flannfluga._ "

Nami laughed in astonishment at the label. Her family once bore those claims because they refused marriage, but they did not flee from men in all ways. It was a common label for shieldmaidens that chose war over marriage. Many had no desire for men, some identified more strongly with their male counterparts than the female, and others just wanted to war. To be _flannfluga_ , though, a woman tended to prefer the company of other women.

"There you go spreading that rumor again," the first guard hissed. "Even I do not claim that as her reason to refuse him."

"She had no reason because he had not courted her," the second guard said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "But if you spread those sorts of claims, you may well get her in trouble with her lady." He gestured to Nami. "She may be offended by such a woman."

Nami raised her hands to wave off the thought. "Of course not. Many of the shieldmaidens in my family refused all relationships with men. According to my mother, it was quite common for them to be more inclined to women."

"And you forget," the third guard huffed, "she just took a woman to be her slave for that very same reason."

"Ah, that is true," the second relented. "Still, it is not wise to spread such gossip. I am sure Conis will find a husband in the future, even if it is not McKinley."

The men nodded in agreement.

"And what of you all?" Nami asked, deciding she should learn more of their lives outside of their duties to the king. "Are you all married, or do you have a girl you wish to court?"

To her surprise, many of the men turned their gazes to their cups, their expressions grave. She gaped at them, searched for one of them to meet her gaze so they might explain the sadness so many carried. The guard beside her caught her eyes and managed a smile that was more grimace.

"I am married, with a son and three daughters," he said quietly, "but my wife…" He sighed and glanced up at the king. "She has stayed faithful to me, but the marriage has turned cold."

She nodded in understanding. He did not have to say more. Their fealty to this new king strained their relationships with the villagers, including their own kin. She could understand that well.

"There was a guard once," whispered another, "when King Enel first took the throne. He bent his knee with McKinley and the rest of us, but his wife…"

"She was vocal in her resentment," the man beside her said with a more obvious grimace. "It is a crime to speak ill of the king."

One of the guards who spoke of Conis nodded as he spun his cup. "It is even worse to speak slander and insults directly to his face." There was a round of nods among all the guards.

"Since this woman was a wife to one of his guards, the king, in his mercy, gave his guard a choice…"

"Either he take them both as prisoners, subject them both to lashings and torture and enslavement…"

"Or the guard kill his wife and prove his loyalty," said the man beside her. His hard stare said all she needed to know, but he still leaned in to whisper the outcome. "He was given a night to make his decision. He could not bear to see his wife tortured. He knew that she would likely die from it, a long miserable death… He reeked of ale and he sobbed loudly when he delivered her body the next morning."

"Two days later, McKinley found him face down in the lake," said another guard, shaking his head solemnly. "A pouch of poisonous mushrooms and an empty mug sat by his shoes at the shore."

"After that, McKinley suggested that any unmarried men in his militia remain that way."

"Not like we have much of a choice," said a man across from her with a derisive snort. "Most of the women don't speak to us beyond polite greetings or to sell their wares in the market. A few are friendly to those they've known since childhood, but… it's not the same."

Nami frowned as the men hummed in agreement. They were outsiders in their own village because of the choices they made. They could not lead normal lives for fear that they will be forced to choose between their king and their family. Even she could not make such a choice lightly, everything she had done in her life was to protect what family she had left, even if it made her an enemy to everyone else.

She did not know what to say to ease their guilt or fear. She could not feign optimism, not when she knew of the war that loomed over them. She could not promise that they would all survive the battles they would face. And she could not promise that Kid would pardon any survivors should he claim victory. So, she poured them more ale and struggled to smile while turning conversation to something she could let them hope for.

"I asked Eir to guide Corazon's hands and see that McKinley heals well," she said to them. "When he wakes, and is well enough, we will have to throw him a huge feast. He fought a frenzied wolf and lived to tell the tale. I think that is cause for celebration."

The men grumbled their agreements, fought to return her smile. The war would take a heavy toll on their consciences, they would have to decide once and for all who their fealty belonged to – King Enel, or the village they had sworn to protect.

Once supper was complete, the guards trickled away to see to their nightly duties, check on their captain, or go off to bed for a few hours of sleep before they would be roused for their next shift on the wall. Nami said her good nights to the king and his priests and slipped off down the hall to peek in on McKinley, herself.

Ove stood at the door with an irritated glower. She had seen him slip into the hall near the end of supper, but after he ate the remaining scraps of supper, he disappeared.

"The Islamic doctors I have met typically warn against the overuse of hashish," Ove grumbled.

The room reeked of burning hashish, the odor sharp and strong. She looked around Ove to see that McKinley slept peacefully – as did his doctor. Law sat upright against the wall on his pallet of furs, braced on his sheathed sword, with his eyes shut and lips twisted in a lazy smile. He chuckled, leaving her to wonder if he was awake, but he slumped down a moment later and his head lolled to the side. His chest rose and fell with even breaths, the rest of him limp with sleep.

Nami sighed. "The doctors still use it in their practice."

"They are not supposed to use it themselves."

"He needs his sleep, too," she said in defense of her ally. "You're just searching for a reason to dislike him."

"I need no more reasons, he merely continues to present them to me."

She glared up at Ove. "He can be trusted," she said, her Frankish words sharp with her confidence.

"I highly doubt that," he growled.

"Then it is a good thing your opinion does not matter to me."

She spun away to storm off to her room, but Ove grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her back into him. He leaned down and whispered, "Do not get too attached to him, Lady Nami. He may wear the guise of a friend today, but tomorrow he may prove to be something different."

"Such as a mercenary traitor who claims to care only for riches yet follows me like a faithful dog despite all his claims of loathing me," she hissed.

Ove's grip tightened for a brief second, and then loosened enough for her to slip her hand away. "Exactly," he said, chuckling. "Do not forget that."

Confused, she tore away from him before he could try to stop her again. They needed to have a frank discussion about where exactly his loyalties stood. As much as she wanted to believe his betrayal was a ruse, she knew better than to get her hopes up. He may well be there for his own interests in her, rather than acting in Kid's interests. But, if it was true that he worked as a spy and guardian, then it was not safe to say anything that might make it obvious to Enel.

Her stomach fluttered with fear as she thought of what Enel would do to him if he learned that Ove was a spy. It would not just be a hand that Ove lost.

She shook away that fear when she noticed Conis waiting for her outside her quarters. She forced a smile for the handmaiden, whose returning smile was not as bright as it could be. Pink stained her cheeks and she looked away after a moment. The bashfulness did not escape her notice.

"You overheard?" Nami asked as she brushed by Conis.

"I heard my name," she whispered as she followed her inside. "I know the sort of rumors McKinley's men spread about me."

"I suspect my decision to take Laki as a bed slave did not help," Nami quipped once they were in her sitting room where a fire smoldered in the hearth to chase off the night's chill. Laki stood in the bedroom, spreading out the linen shift Nami would sleep in that night. She paused in her chore to glower at the remark. Nami merely smiled back, waving off her annoyance. "You share a bed with a mistress who claims to desire women for her pleasure," she said as she turned to Conis. "They did not claim that I use you, but I have no doubt they have thought it."

Conis' cheeks reddened as she fidgeted and wrung her hands. "It is likely."

"And what is the truth of these rumors?" Nami asked.

Conis' eyes widened and Nami swore she saw a flash of fear.

"I do not care if you flee men or marriage or anything of the sort," Nami rushed to explain. "I am not Christian, and my family is markedly different from others when it comes to relations between men and women. I would not punish anyone for who they share their bed with, and if the king or any man thought to cause you trouble for it, I would do what I could to intervene in those charges. I am curious, though, if McKinley courted you. He is also the one who suggested you to the king for the position as my handmaiden, which leaves me to wonder if he had other purposes bringing you to the hall."

Conis gnawed on her lip before sinking onto a bench covered with furs and thick pillows. Nami sat beside her and waited; Laki slipped closer, her curiosity piqued as she stared at Conis.

"It is true… to an extent," Conis began. "McKinley suggested a marriage years ago, but I was still young and my mother had just died. My father was not yet ready to part with me. It was a very generous offer, and… looking back, if I had to choose a man to have children with, he would be an agreeable husband."

"Agreeable but not someone you desire?" Laki asked, her head cocked to the side. "It would be a marriage of duty."

Conis shrugged. "He is the reason my father was left alone when Enel came. He convinced the king that the village needed an independent craftsman to repair what they could not. The king agreed. I owe a great deal to McKinley for that. The reason I am here is to repay some of that debt."

"How has he treated you since you came to the hall?" Nami asked. "I have not noticed you two spending much time together."

Conis shook her head. "We have both been busy with our duties. When I have spoken to him, he has been kind." A sad smile tugged at her lips. "Distant but kind. He used to be so jovial, but he has grown to be such a serious man. And now…"

Tears pricked her eyes as she bowed her head. Nami wound an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against her side to comfort her in her grief. Conis may not desire McKinley as Nami desired Kid, but she did care for him. There was history and friendship, even if it grew stiff and cold over the years since Enel claimed the throne. The others in the village likely faced the same pain and sadness, even as they all but shunned the men they had grown up with. The king had driven a wedge between the people, destroying old bonds and testing others.

A sob wracked Conis, and Nami wrapped her up tight in her arms. Conis returned her embrace, clung to her. She had not seen Conis grieve for McKinley or his men since they returned. The weight of all that happened to them must have been a heavy burden. She may no longer be close to anyone in the militia, but old friendships were difficult to forget and put out of one's heart. It was impossible not to mourn for those lost, and for the one survivor who may yet leave them soon.

"Shhh, he will be all right," Nami whispered. Laki sat on the bench beside her, uncomfortable but sympathetic, and gripped Conis' arm in her own attempt to give comfort. "Corazon has sworn to take care of him. He is a good and talented doctor, he will not fail to make McKinley well again."

How McKinley might change after such an event, she could not say, but he would be alive and that was cause enough to hope his friendship with Conis may return to how it was. Perhaps whatever fondness Conis still had for McKinley would be what helped revive their friendship.

Or perhaps it would be enough to sway McKinley and his men to turn away from the king. They kneeled to protect their people, but that would not be enough to save them from Enel's ambitions. And if they remained loyal and unquestioning, she would not be able to protect them from Kid's wrath. They would have to make their own choices and save the village themselves. She could not do anything to persuade the villagers to revolt. She was an outsider, and a priest, any attempt to stir discontent and aggression would be met with skepticism and mistrust. But, if they did not at least find a way to flee from the path of war, they would be caught in the tide and slaughtered by either side without any care.

Nami relaxed into the pillows as she held Conis, resting her cheek against the handmaiden's head. She was tired, but she had too many thoughts swirling in her mind. On top of devising a plan to turn the militia to her side, or at least to the side of the people, she had to locate Wiper's tribe and send a message to inspire an alliance between he and Kid, and Laki would not inform her of anything until she found her cousin. Kamikiri might have shared more with Ove, assuming Ove worked in her interests, but it was not safe to discuss much with them.

Laki continued to rub Conis' arm and shoulder, though she appeared no more comfortable with the gesture than she had been. Nami peeked at her as she thought about all she had to do for the Sami woman. She had no idea where to start looking for Aisa. The forest and mountains were a large area for a child to get lost in, filled with dangers that may turn their search into a tragedy.

"What is it?" Laki asked when she noticed Nami's gaze. Her brows knit together; annoyed or confused, Nami could not be certain.

"Have you spoken with Kamikiri?" Nami asked, prompting Laki's expression to turn solidly into one of confusion.

"Briefly. Only a few words before that brute of a bear took him away. Why?"

Nami pursed her lips and wished she could say more. They had not yet had much time for her to learn the Sami language. At best she knew a word or two, but if pressed to use them, they would drift far from her grasp and she would forget them until much later, when she did not need them again. She had not had such problems when learning Frankish and the various dialects, but she had been younger, and her tutors had immersed her in the language to prevent her lessons from going lax. Anyone within Arlong's hall, slave or warrior, was to speak to her in Frankish if they knew the language. As much as Arlong hated the tongue, he agreed it was the best way to teach her the dialects.

"I was just curious," Nami said before a yawn interrupted her. She squeezed Conis tight as she settled deeper into the furs and pillows. "I wanted to know how Ove was treating him. He has been fed better than I expected and does not seem any more damaged than when you two arrived, but appearances can be deceiving." A man she thought to be a traitor may very well be an ally. "If I can do anything for him without drawing Ove's ire, I will, but on the surface, his enslavement does not seem to warrant my intervention yet."

Laki nodded forlornly.

"May I ask, what is your relation to him?" Nami asked.

"We have been friends since childhood. He is one of the most devoted to Wiper's cause, as well," Laki said.

Being enslaved by his enemy's priest would be especially insulting, then. Yet Kamikiri truly did not look worse off for it. He was quiet and observant whenever Ove brought him into the hall, he ate well, his wounds were healing with no new ones appearing. He did not glare at his master, did not give away any impression of disgust with his situation. He seemed to be patiently waiting for something. His freedom, perhaps?

Too many questions, not enough answers.

"I need to find Aisa," Nami muttered as her eyes grew heavy. She let them shut, but sleep did not greet her, only the backs of her eyelids and the questions and plans that plagued her.

"You need to sleep," Laki said flatly.

Conis stirred in her arms. "I'm sorry, I have kept you awake," she said with a sniffle. Nami glanced at her as she pulled from her arms. Conis wiped at her tears and struggled to give her a shaky smile. "You did not sleep when you were supposed to this morning."

"And you slept fitfully the other night," Laki interjected

"And not at all the night before that," Conis added with a silent rebuke. "Corazon gave me a small bundle of his hashish with directions that you burn it and rest tonight."

Nami sank back with a sigh and rubbed her tired eyes. "I have too much to think about, too much to plan."

"And nothing will be accomplished if you do not rest," said Laki.

"Your thoughts will order themselves with sleep," said Conis.

Nami groaned. They were right. Answers may come to her as she slept. Or she may just find herself in Yggdrasil, staring down at fog and unmoving roots that hid the man she desperately wished to see. She missed the comfort of Kid's embrace, the safety promised within his arms, the warmth he shared with just one kiss. She would not have any of it again if she failed to succeed there.

She would give anything to see him, to feel him. Just one more time.

"Lady Nami?" Conis asked, worry evident in her voice.

Nami felt a tear slip free and trail down her cheek. She shook her head, forced back her own grief, and wiped the tear away. She could not cry there. She could not lose her hope.

"I'm fine, just tired," she said, forcing a smile. "Are you feeling better, Conis?"

Conis nodded but appeared doubtful of Nami's excuse. Laki seemed to share that doubt, but she held her tongue as Nami dragged herself from the comfort of the bench.

"I will use Corazon's medicine and pray for my dreams to bring me some answers," she told them as she slipped into her bedroom to change. "I may fall asleep at my altar. Leave me there if I do, just cover me with extra furs so I don't grow ill."

The women exchanged a look. She ignored whatever thoughts they had as she drew the linen and silk curtains between the two spaces shut. She preferred to leave them open, but she desired privacy that night. Her fears and desires wore on her heart and she did not have the strength to smile again.

A bronze censer sat on a table beside her canopied bed, and a piece of cloth, folded and tied, rested next to it. She untied and opened the linen to find a soft ball of Law's green paste and a leather pouch that held loose seeds and small pieces of black charcoal. She was unsure how this medicine would help her, but if it allowed McKinley to rest, and even put Law to sleep, she supposed it would not hurt to try.

Once she had changed into her shift, she arranged the censer on the altar she kept tucked into a corner. The censer was shaped like a cat, with its head and body formed from an intricate latticework of weaving bronze. The design was one she knew to be from the Mediterranean countries, crafted by Islamic artisans. Its bronze body gleamed beautifully in the candlelight, and she decided the cat fit well on her altar.

The head of the cat lifted to reveal the inner chamber for the herbs or incense. She took a pellet of charcoal, held it over a candle flame until one end began to glow, and then placed it inside the censer with a few of the dry seeds before lowering the head back into place.

The smoke that wafted from the censer smelled of the sharp musk that permeated the room Law and McKinley occupied. It wasn't immediately pleasant, but after a few deep breaths she grew used to the scent and found it strangely soothing.

As the seeds burned, Nami poured herself a cup of ale from the flagon Conis left beside her washing bowl, and then settled onto the floor with an array of pillows and furs. She took a sip of ale before eating the soft pill of hashish. She grimaced at the bitter taste and washed it down with more ale.

She unbound her braids and ran a comb through her hair as she waited for the herbs to lull her mind. Her gaze focused on the altar and the pieces she had gathered in only the scant few months since she left Tingstad. The golden boar sat at the back. Its paint flickered from gold to orange as the candle's flame wavered. Its empty eyes appeared to move with the light, gazing at her one moment, and then off into the distance the next.

The silver box Kid stole for her sat at another corner toward the back, overflowing with strings of gold and pearls and polished gems. Trinkets she pilfered from the hoard in England, coins taken as fines for offenses, and other pieces that she had accumulated over the weeks in Enel's hall. Her broaches and amber and her mother's bracelet laid over the treasures – protecting them, blessing them. They were the most important pieces in the box, to be worn daily.

Her falcon took the most prominent spot on her altar. Kid had crafted it for Freyja, but it was not she who wore the falcon's cloak and watched over her in Oslo.

Her limbs grew heavy as she stared at the falcon before her. Her fingertips tingled as though they were numb, but as she eased the teeth of her comb through her hair, the silken graze of each strand felt like the gentle flow of a river upon her skin.

Her gaze blurred and sharpened. The shadows grew darker, the candle's flame brighter. The falcon's face shifted, its beak turned into a wry grin.

Her face twitched and tingled. She felt a smile tug at her lips and giggled at the statue's strange face. He was watching her even there.

Would he help her in the dilemma she faced? _Could_ he help her?

Hands as heavy as stone fell into her lap. Her eyes sagged, threatened to shut. Every part of her seemed to relax all at once. She felt as though she would sink into the floor, into the earth, swallowed up whole.

She breathed in the last wisps of the musky smoke and shut her eyes on a sigh.

And then she felt as light as air.

She heard herself laugh again as her body swayed. Her hair cascaded over her back, tickled the nape of her neck. She snickered as she drank in the shiver that raced down her spine. The air itself seemed to be caressing her, whispering to her, embracing her.

She thought she was too tired to smile again, yet it was stuck on her face as she floated on her pillows and furs and wondered if a cloud felt as soft.

The soft patter of rain filtered in through the haze of her wandering thoughts. The scent of damp wood replaced the smoldering embers in the censer. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The air around her shuddered with the sound, yet she did not fear it. It seemed to fill her veins with energy, tickled her spine with the need to act. She remained comfortable on her cloud of fur, absorbing the charged air, breathing in the rain.

"Ah, the good doctor has fine taste in medicine," a voice hummed from somewhere above. "He pleases me more and more each day."

She opened her eyes to find herself in the great tree. The branches and leaves around her swayed with the breeze while mist swirled up and around. It seemed different, yet the same. Details seemed sharper, each evergreen leaf as real as those she would see in her world while awake. The wood beneath her fingertips as she sat upon a bough was intricately gouged by its bark, while the sharp scent of its sap mixed with the scent of rain.

It was not uncommon for priests and priestesses to use various herbs and plants, strange medicines and magic brews, to send their minds to other realms in ritual. Mushrooms and henbane were most used, but trade far to the south and east provided hashish and opium. They were said to heighten the experience, connect them to the gods with far greater clarity.

Nami had never tried anything stronger than mead. The assembly that Arlong had taken her to had magic brews concocted from henbane and mushrooms that fueled the orgy she walked in on. There was no ritual to that, though. The men had only sought to enjoy themselves, the brews merely fueled their lusts. She did not understand what sort of ecstasy they took from such an event back then, but now she could see the attraction of it. Though, she would rather avoid lying with strangers in such a state.

The thought of joining with Kid sparked her curiosity. His touch alone invoked ecstasy and magic beyond any she had known. They may well truly lose their minds if they joined in such a state.

"The day your people learned of hashish from the Muslims was a blessing," the voice continued, bringing her wandering mind back to the present. "The scent…" A sigh broke into his words. "Ah, it is glorious."

Nami looked up to see fiery hair spill over the branch above her. Loki reclined languidly, stretched out with an arm dangling limply and a single leg bent to steady him on his perch.

"I take it you would like this as an offering instead of the berries and wine?" she asked, her smile growing.

His hair shifted as though he turned his head. A chuckle drifted along the wind. "Perhaps," he said, an alluring purr in his voice. "All good things in moderation, though. If you or I spend too much time in this haze, nothing will change in the world; nothing will be accomplished."

Those words sobered her. She turned her gaze down and searched for the wolf chained at the roots. The knotted web remained where the tree had shifted to hide Kid, the mist thickened to shroud it further, but she could hear the whimpers and scratches of the wolf, the rattle of its chains. They were not as urgent as they had been, done more out of stubborn habit.

Her limbs ached with the urge to go to him. She wanted to soothe him, and she wanted him to ease her own worries. But she could not move, no matter how much she wished to.

"It is not yet time," Loki said. "You took a great and foolish risk last time. It is best to wait a while, until all the pieces are set."

"Enel said he heard him call for me," Nami said with a long sigh. Loki was right, it was too soon. If she went to Kid and the king heard her, he would put an end to her before she even woke from the vision.

"Of course, he did," Loki said. "I warned you that his magic is too strong to fight directly."

"He did not hear me. I silenced myself as soon as I heard the thunder, but he has been in the tree other nights and there was no thunder to warn of his presence. Could he have lied about that? Could he have heard me talking to him?"

Loki shifted again, this time turning to his side to peer over the bough and meet her curious gaze. "His magic is strong, but it is not pure. He can sense you, but for some reason he cannot always hear you."

"Can he hear you?"

He shook his head. "He cannot even sense me." His lips tugged into a frown as he sprawled over the branch on his stomach. "Thor has complained of it to me many times. Something is disjointed in that family's magic. Their senses are not what they should be, especially after they wove their lineage with Freyja's. He can hear and see much in the realm of mortal men, far more than you can. His magic is unrivaled there, but the realms of the gods seem to be beyond his reach." He sighed. "Ask him of it, he may confide this particular weakness in you, though he may not view it as a weakness considering his unbridled arrogance."

"What of Yggdrasil? He was not surprised when I said the tree had sheltered me. Can he sense the life in the tree?" Even as she asked that question, she could feel the pulse of growth and subtle movement in the branch beneath her, like a fluttering, slow heartbeat.

"That I am not certain of," Loki admitted. "He is comfortable here, but Yggdrasil does not favor him as it does you."

She hummed as she wondered on that. Could it be her connection to the gods was stronger than his own? Seidr was meant to communicate with the gods, to hear them, to speak to them. Foresight was part of it, but the root of it was a connection to the other realms, an understanding of the worlds connected to their own. He should be able to hear the gods, or at least sense their voice when they are close.

But if it was true that he could not hear them in the tree, that meant she could openly conspire with Loki there.

"Loki?" she called. He had shut his eyes as she thought, his lips parted as though he slept. He cracked open an eye to glare and she gave her most disarming grin in return. "Could you help me with something?"

He snorted in amusement. "I was wondering when you might ask that," he mused while stretching. He hooked his legs around the branch and gracefully flipped to hang upside down, his grinning face hovering right in front of hers. "What favor might I bestow upon my beloved grandchild, hm?"

"There's a child," she began. "A little girl. She's supposedly lost in Enel's forest, or somewhere between the mountains and the forest."

"Ah. The Sami woman's kin. Yes, what of it?"

"Well, finding a little girl in the woods is a difficult task for a lone mortal woman. It would take me too long to find her. She may well be dead, I don't know. But a god, one who happens to have Freyja's cloak, may find her faster, before the elements take her life," she hinted.

"You want me to look for her in your stead?" Loki frowned. "You should use this opportunity to practice your sight."

Nami pouted at him. "But I have too much to do as it is, and seidr is meant to invoke the gods for their aid. Well, I am here invoking you to aid me in finding this little girl. Once I have her, I can complete my map and figure out a way to send it to Kid."

"I still think you should practice your sight, young one," he lectured. "But," he huffed, "I will aid you."

His agreement elated her. "Truly?"

He looked at her as though she had grown a second head. "Of course. Why should it come as such a surprise that I would help you?"

"Well, all you've done so far is tell me stories, say cryptic things about the man you've sent to aid me, and pushed me out of this tree," she said. "I trust that all you do is to help, in your own way, I just was not sure if you would take direct action on my behalf."

"I cannot do everything for you, but I can lend what I'm able when you ask it from me. Seeking a little girl to secure your continued alliance with the Sami woman is simple enough." He kicked his legs free of his branch and flipped away. The feathered cloak he wore flew out around him as he fell. She watched him descend until she heard wings catch air.

The falcon flew up with a deafening shriek, its wings beat at the mist. "Wait there," he called out. "I will not be long." And then he was gone.

Nami crawled along the bough to settle against the trunk. Yggdrasil was peaceful, even the wolf's whines and huffs could not disturb the pleasant mood she found herself in.

With her back to the tree, she breathed in deep. The distant scent of the hashish filled her lungs, mingled with the rain and damp wood. She shut her eyes and sank back with a sigh. Her skin tingled, and she swore she could feel every minuscule drop of water in the swirling mist. She could feel how the clouds billowed, how the rain fell. She could hear it splash over every leaf, on the roof of the hall, on the ground, in the wells below.

The storm would grow stronger before it was gone.

She hummed to herself as she waited, singing along with the wind in the branches. The wolf's scratches grew still, but she heard the chains clink together. A flash of an image showed the wolf curled within the roots, his eyes shut as he listened to her voice carry through the air. When she dared to stop, he huffed and growled, so she hummed some more, the sound filled with her mirth as she pictured Kid's annoyed glower on the face of a wolf.

The branch dipped with another weight, claws scratched over rough bark. She thought Loki had returned, though she had not heard the beat of his wings. She peeked open an eye, prepared to tease him for sneaking up on her, but froze when she saw a large cat on the bough at her feet.

A forest cat with long fur of white and orange and tawny brown peered at her with glittering gold and amber eyes. Its head canted to the side as she gaped, and then it let out a quiet mewl before padding forward. She sat perfectly still as it clambered onto her. Its heavy weight tilted as it walked over her legs and she reached out to steady it until it sat on her lap.

She forgot how to breathe as it held her gaze and mewled again.

She swore she heard a woman snicker, but it had to be her imagination. Perhaps the hashish was making her hallucinate?

The cat sat back on its hind legs, lifted its forepaws to balance against her chest. It pressed its head to her chin, began to purr, and Nami finally gasped in a deep breath as she felt the silky soft fur of the cat caress her cheek.

The laughter returned, echoing in the air around her. She shut her eyes as fingers swept through her hair, danced behind her ear, along her jaw, down her neck. Her heart raced, heat coursed down her spine, filled her chest with a comfortable warmth she only felt in Kid's embrace.

She bowed her head as tears stung her eyes. She missed that sensation, longed to have it in her waking life. The wolf whined below, yelped and growled when she gasped back a sob, howled when she struggled to restrain her grief. His claws urgently scratched at the roots, the chains groaned with the pressure he put on them. He missed it, too. He missed her.

The cat's forehead butted against hers.

"Patience," a woman whispered on the breeze. "Breathe. Just breathe." She struggled for a breath as the cat continued to nuzzle her. "You will find your way back to him. Do not lose hope. Do not lose faith in yourself. Trust in your own strength and you will not fail."

A falcon's shrieking cry could be heard in the distance. Nami gasped in a sharp breath and fought to regain her composure. The cat leaped from her lap, landed on the branch in front of her.

"I will guide you when the time is right," she whispered. "For now, prepare yourself for what is to come."

The cat bounded along the branch, jumping off to vanish into the fog. Nami wiped at her tears and focused on steadying her breaths. The wolf continued to whine and scratch, so she whispered, "I'm all right," until he calmed. A lingering growl carried to her from below, followed by a huff and the heavy clang of his chains coming to rest on the ground.

By the time the falcon landed, and Loki reappeared in a flurry of feathers and cloak, her tears were gone, but her smile was more forced than it had been. He waved his arms in a mocking bow that might have made her laugh if her heart did not ache so much.

"I have returned with – What is this?" His grin vanished the moment he met her eyes. Anger licked at his gaze, the bough shook with his heavy steps. He crouched in front of her, snatched her face in his hand, and studied her with simmering annoyance. "Your face is splotched. You were crying. What caused this melancholy?"

"It's nothing… I…" she stammered, but her voice caught in her throat as his gaze swept down.

His frown pursed as he released her to pluck a soft tuft of fur from her dress. "That willful, impatient shrew." She gasped at his muttered words and prepared to yell at him for insulting Freyja, but he silenced her with a glare. "I say that with all the love in my heart. And she has called me worse," he huffed. "What did she say to make you weep?"

It was not what she said, it was the reminder of what she lacked. When had she grown so desperate for his affection? When had she come to care so much for him, that she longed for even a simple, fleeting touch? She had never allowed herself such attachments before. Why now? Why him? She knew that she could not keep him, that fate may yet rob them of the life they desired together. Yet still she allowed him to court her, yet still she cried for what she missed, yet still she would fight to have him back.

Loki sat back with a sigh when she did not answer. "That woman should sit with her brother a while. He has worlds of patience, but no, not her. He must have hoarded all the patience in the womb, while she took the temper." He sighed again. "Did she at least tell you to pass on any kind words to me? Encouragement? Gratitude? Hm? Anything?" Nami shook her head and he let out a long, exasperated sigh. "I am not surprised, and yet I am still disappointed. But enough about that careless tart, I have news on the girl, do you wish to hear it?"

"You found her?" The reminder lifted her spirits, forced her thoughts back to what was important, what she had immediate control over.

Loki hummed. "Perhaps," he purred, too crafty and mischievous for her liking.

"Perhaps? Either you did, or you did not, so answer me straight, Loki," she snapped impatiently.

He arched a finely groomed brow in a silent rebuke she ignored with a glare. This child's life and well-being were crucial in gaining Laki's full cooperation. She would not tolerate wasting her time with riddles.

"Deep within the king's oaken forests, I heard a little angel cry," Loki said, a lilt of amusement in his tone to match his wry grin. She sighed, relenting to the riddles he would torment her with. "I followed the distant sobbing until I found a great snake." As he spoke, he thrust out his arm where a large blue and green snake coiled around the limb. She sat back in surprise and stifled a shriek as it slithered along his arm and stretched toward her. "Its gullet was wide open. The angel's cries echoed from within, so I peered inside…" He held the snake closer. Its maw opened, its fangs glistened with venom. Nami fought off a shiver, and then froze when she heard the softest of weeping. "And lo! There sat a tiny cherub with a broken wing, trapped within the bowels of the serpent."

The snake lashed out. Its jaw widened, unhinged, and it swallowed her whole.

A wolf's enraged howl grew muffled and distant as she fell through darkness. It vanished entirely the moment she crashed to the ground. A jagged stone stuck into her back, forcing a cry of pain from her as she arched away.

"Hello?" a tiny voice called out. Scared, sad, weak. It tugged at her heart, even as she wondered if they heard her. "Is someone there?"

Nami grappled in the dark and found a mossy rock to her right. Pain lanced through her back as she pulled herself up. A sniffle and stifled weep drove her to stumble through the darkness, stubbing her toes on rocks, scraping her head on the stone above.

Water dripped from somewhere, the sound echoing around her. The scent of rain, of rich soil and damp moss, surrounded her. Thunder made the air tremble. The little voice gasped in surprise and Nami knew she was close when she could hear teeth chatter and a muted whimper of fear.

"He won't find me," the voice whispered reassuringly. "He won't find me."

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A thin stream of light cast the world in muted greys and browns. She blinked, strained to see through the shadows.

She was in a cave.

And there on the floor, huddled between boulders with a ragged cloak wrapped around her thin body was a little girl. Her brown hair was wet and matted and knotted with leaves, the bit of flesh exposed on her arms was filthy and bruised. The girl glanced up, tears streaked through the dirt on her cheeks.

She met the girl's gaze…

And woke with a startled gasp. "Aisa."

Nami bolted upright from her makeshift bed on the floor, the lingering scent of the burned herbs wafting around her. She breathed deep as she tried to understand what she had just seen. Her hands trembled with excitement or fear or some combination.

Someone groaned in the bed behind her. Laki stirred first, picking up her head to turn bleary eyes toward Nami. Conis burrowed into the blankets and pillows beside the Sami, stubbornly refusing to wake.

"Did you just say Aisa?" Laki croaked.

Nami threw her blankets away and crawled toward the bed. She snatched Laki's arm, startling the woman.

"Can your cousin see?" she whispered.

Laki's brows knit. "See? Of course she can see. She has eyes…"

"No," Nami interrupted. She squeezed Laki's arm, urged her to understand. "Can she _see_?"

Laki's confusion deepened before realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened, mouth gaped. Nami knew the answer before she even nodded.

"I saw her," Nami whispered. "And she saw me."

"You saw her? You know where she is?" Laki asked as she fought at the blankets and began to climb out of bed.

The movement forced Conis awake. She picked her head up to glower at her bedmate, but the look was ignored as the last of the linen sheets were flung into her face.

In the glimpse Nami had of her handmaiden before the sheets shrouded her, she had caught sight of Conis' disheveled linen shift. The front had been loosened, the shoulder slid down, and the swell of her breast slipped free. Nami's cheeks warmed at the sight of a red-brown bruise on the crook of her neck.

She knew that mark well. Kid had given her plenty.

"You can find her?" Laki asked, drawing Nami's attention back to her.

Nami hesitated to answer. Could she find her? Loki said she was in Enel's forest, but she was trapped in a cave, or some crag of rocks. The boundaries of Enel's oaks helped narrow the search, though there were still far more tunnels and ravines and rocky formations to make it an easy hunt. She could not safely traipse into every single one.

But she promised Laki that she would find her cousin and the gods had gifted her with a vision that gave hope to the search.

"I can," she said, forcing herself to appear more confident than she felt. "Dress quickly. Both of you. No dresses. Trousers and tunics."

"What about the king?" asked Conis, rubbing at a tired eye. "Will he not wonder?"

 _He will most certainly wonder,_ Nami thought to herself. "Let me worry about him," she said as she clambered to her feet and headed toward the chest that held her shieldmaiden garb. Enel might question why she was dressed for war if she only meant to walk through the woods, but she could not climb through boulders and crags in a dress. She may as well dress to battle whatever nature thought to throw at her in this hunt. She would worry about Enel's suspicions when he approached her with them.

They dressed in a hurry, each woman helping the other gather their hair into high tails and knots, binding their legs and waists with leather straps and belts. They would make for an odd sight in the hall, so Nami sent Conis off with the excuse that she was still weary and lethargic from her night's rest, and that she would take breakfast in her quarters. She returned shortly with three servants in tow, each carrying a healthy platter of bread and cheese and porridge and fruit, while Conis carried a pitcher of goat's milk.

It seemed that Law had advised the cooks to make a large meal for her, informing them that her hunger and thirst would be ravenous from the hashish.

He was correct. The moment she bit into a piece of toasted bread with melted sweet cheese on top, she moaned in delight and devoured as much of her breakfast as she could while still sparing some for Conis and Laki.

"I will need to speak with Corazon before we leave," Nami said as she bit into a ripe cloudberry. He was the only healer she would trust to care for Aisa if she was injured. Loki had mentioned a broken wing, but the child had no wings, so she was not sure what might be broken, or if it was just a play on words to mean she was hurt in other ways.

"Should we gather others to help in the search?" asked Conis.

"I would not readily trust any others," she whispered.

Conis frowned but nodded her grudging agreement. It would be a long, tiring day if it was only the three of them. Ove would likely aid her if she asked, and he might bring Kamikiri with him, but that could garner even more suspicion.

"We will need bows and arrows in case we come across any animals that may attack," Nami said once their empty plates and bowls were cleared from the room. Nami had sent the servants to fill skins with fresh water and pack food for their hike. If Aisa had been missing for days, she would be starving when they found her. "And with that storm last night, there might be fallen branches to contend with. We'll need axes for that."

"It's unfortunate we cannot trust anyone else to aid us." Conis frowned as she slipped an axe into her belt. "This will be a tiresome day."

"I have flint in my purse if we need to rest in the woods for a night," Laki said. "I do not want to return to the hall until we find her."

They may have no choice in that matter, but Enel might forgive them a single night away. She hoped.

Once they had everything they needed, Nami led the way out of her quarters. Her mind was still searching for a believable excuse to leave the fortress as she stepped out onto the walkway to the main hall. A blur of brown and white flew in front of her, and she leaped back into Conis and Laki, stifling a shriek of surprise.

Her heart raced and her breath caught as she watched the falcon swoop around and back across the walkway before skidding to a stop in front of them. Conis grabbed Nami's arm. Laki gasped in surprise. They stood perfectly still and watched the bird peck at some creature caught in its talons, seeming to pay them no mind.

Nami knew better than to think it was merely a coincidence.

She eased her arm from Conis' grip and took a careful step forward. The falcon glanced up, opened its beak in a silent acknowledgement, and then returned to pecking what Nami realized was a tiny dead snake. Its blue and green scales split open as the falcon tore into it.

The falcon arrived with a snake like the one in her dream, albeit far smaller. This was no coincidence.

She waved back at the women, and whispered, "Find me a leather glove." She hoped there was something thick enough to protect her arm from those talons and that beak. Even if this falcon was sent to her by a god, it was a wild animal and she had no doubt it would not accept captivity that easily, even if it was only temporary.

She heard the women drop to the ground to sneak off for the glove. They gave her and the falcon a wide berth as they circled around. Wise decision. There was no telling what the bird would do if startled.

Nami slowly crouched down as she edged closer. The falcon glanced up once, but its meal still had most of its attention. "Were you sent to help us find the snake?" she asked quietly. The falcon gave a chittering reply as it scooped the snake up in its beak. It let it hang there as it turned its head to look at her. She swore she saw it nod, but she also wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her.

Perhaps the hashish hadn't completely worn off yet.

Nami sat down in front of the falcon as it returned to tearing the snake apart. It didn't move away or snap at her, so she let herself breath and relax as she waited for her glove.

Sitting so close, she was able to make out the mottled brown on its cream-white chest – a female's pattern. She snickered as she remembered Loki's tale of his masquerade as a southern lord, and the female bosom he wore as a trick. Her laughter drew the falcon's attention to her. She swore it glared.

"I hope you don't mate with that form. You will invite more mockery if you give birth to another monster," she whispered.

The falcon most certainly glared, this time coupled with an indignant squawk. She laughed again.

Until it picked up the snake and flung it at her.

She shrieked and batted the shredded carcass away. "I was only teasing."

The falcon squawked once more but brushed off its ire as it lifted a wing and began to groom.

Conis and Laki returned shortly after, tiptoeing through the mud and patchy grass at the side of the walkway to avoid startling the falcon. Conis held a long falconer's glove out to her, Laki held a length of twine to use as a lead.

"Ohm is searching for a bell," Conis whispered as Nami took the glove.

"Ohm?" Nami's heart raced as she noticed movement further down the walkway. The king approached with Satori at his side, Law followed a few paces behind.

"The king found us in our search for the glove and questioned the use for it," Conis explained. "There is no lying to him."

There was no need to lie to him about the falcon, but this meant her need for an excuse to leave the grounds was urgent. She glanced at the bird, its head cocked to the side as though asking what she intended. She took a deep breath, slipped on the glove, and held out her arm. The bird's head cocked the other way, staring at the proffered arm.

 _Please_ , she silently urged.

The falcon glanced at her, then back at the men nearing them. Ohm appeared in the door to the hall, his dog at his heels, and turned toward them. The falcon bobbed its head and squawked at the newcomers, then turned to skip closer to her, hopping onto her forearm without any struggle.

Nami breathed a sigh of relief.

"I see the falcon has taken to you," Enel called. "All those offerings must have softened it."

She laughed uneasily. "I still believe it belonged to a hunter or noble once," she said as she drew her arm close to her body, balanced the heavy weight of the bird, and slowly stood. "It is too tame."

The king stopped in front of her and took the twine from Laki. "Well, their loss is your gain," he mused as he slipped the twine around the bird's ankle. Nami held her breath and preyed it did not snap at the king. To her fortune, it only stared at the king, though its black eyes narrowed with its ire. "A fine creature," Enel said as he tied the twine, either unaware or unbothered by the danger in the falcon's beak. "The gods favor you."

She remembered what Loki said to her about Enel's seidr, that he could not hear the gods as he should.

"I am glad to hear that," she said, hating how her voice trembled as his gaze flit to hers. His gaze was usually flat and bored, but there was a knowing sort of mirth that swirled in his eyes. The corner of his lips quirked up. Her heart raced even faster as she forced a smile. "But they are not the god I want favor from."

"Oh?" He chuckled. "You have my favor, as well," he said as he turned to Ohm and took a small bell attached to a leather cuff from his priest. "But not enough that I would overlook your attempt to leave the fortress," he said as he slipped the cuff onto the bird, just above the temporary lead.

She cursed in her mind. There truly was no lying to the king.

She laughed nervously as he straightened. The mirth in his eyes was gone, his gaze now flat with annoyance and a silent command to explain herself. The falcon on her arm growled and pecked at the accessories secured to its scaled talon, all while ignoring the king who dared to reach out and stroke its back.

"I heard your servants whispering for provisions. You intend to go for a walk in my woods," Enel said. "What reason do you have for it?"

"I would have told you myself," Nami insisted. "I was on my way to do just that, but the falcon's appearance interrupted me." Enel hummed, his eyes narrowed. Nami felt a shiver trickle down her spine. She glanced at Laki. Her new slave glared at the king, but it wavered when she noticed Nami's gaze. Laki would not be pleased with her, but there truly was no lying to the king. Not this time. "I had a dream last night," Nami said, turning back to the king. "I was in your forest and I heard a child crying. I thought it might be my slave's lost cousin. I wanted to see if my dream told true, or if it was just a dream."

Enel brightened, his gaze flit to the women at her side. "Ah, well, I thought I heard you make use of your women last night."

Laki sneered. Conis blushed and refused to meet anyone's gaze. Nami silently thanked whatever intimacy came between them. She did not know what conjured it, would not pry into the details, but she would use it to her advantage.

"The hashish I used made for an interesting night," Nami said. It was not a lie. Enel could come to his own conclusions from that, even if they were wrong. "Even this falcon is a sign that my dream was not merely a dream. It came to me in the tree. Delivered that snake there. It swallowed me whole and within its gullet, I found a cave where the scared child hid."

"Then the falcon is here to help you find that cave within my forest." Enel nodded at his priests. "A search of the forest will take you three longer than an afternoon. We will join you in this hunt."

"That is not necessary –" she began to argue but fell silent at the king's glare. She cleared her throat and bowed her head. "You do not need to bother yourself with this chore, but I am grateful to have your aid. Your ears are better than mine. We will find the child quicker with your help."

Her acquiescence pleased the king. He turned away to his priests to gather men and supplies for the search. Horses, hounds, and extra provisions. He would send a small army after a single child.

Laki grabbed her arm as Enel led the way to the hall. "How can you allow this?" she hissed, openly fuming over the addition to their search party. "He will kill her when he finds her."

"You presume she has any say at all," Enel called over his shoulder, cutting off Nami's explanation before she could do more than open her mouth. He glanced back at them, glare set on the hand gripping Nami's arm. Laki immediately loosened her hold. "I am king. I could very well forbid Lady Nami from searching for this child and hunt for the trespasser myself. _Then_ , I assure you, I would have this vermin put to death." The color drained from Laki's face. "You are fortunate that I am curious if her dream brought her a genuine vision. That is the only reason I am giving her leave to search with you."

"You will allow us to help, but you will still kill a child for setting foot in your forest," Laki dared to accuse, her voice trembling with her anger and fear.

Enel chuckled. "Lady Nami has done much to garner my favor since she came to me. If she requests I spare the child, I might be persuaded, just as she persuaded me to spare you."

"I would be grateful if you showed the child some mercy," Nami said. "She is still young. She has much to learn about this world."

"That she does," Enel agreed. "I will spare her life, but she will not go unpunished. She will gain some wisdom from this escapade and hopefully, in the future, she will heed the call of fear as well as you, Lady Nami." He turned away without waiting for her response. "It will not take long to rally my men. Meet us at the gate shortly."

Nami breathed a sigh of relief. The king would not murder the child. That was one burden off her shoulders.

"Corazon," she called to Law before he could return to the hall. He regarded her with a raised brow. "The girl is likely injured. I don't know the full extent of her injuries, but she was hurt in my vision."

"That is to be expected if she fell into a cave," he said, eyeing the falcon perched on her arm with curious bemusement. The falcon cocked its head and returned his stare. "I cannot be away from McKinley's side for long, but I will prepare my room to treat the child when you return with her."

For a man of no faith, he did not question the reliability of her foresight. He seemed certain that she would find Aisa. His confidence soothed the last of her anxieties.

Nami gripped his arm and smiled. "Thank you," she whispered.

His brow cocked higher in his confusion as he glanced at her hand. His lips pursed in a frown before he gave her a short nod and placed a hand over hers, squeezing it. "You're welcome," he said. "Now hurry along, before the king changes his mind and leaves you all here."

She spared him one more grateful smile before hurrying away to meet the king, Conis and Laki following at her heels without further command. Excitement and fear swirled in her gut, a mixture of heady anticipation as the horses and carts and soldiers came into view.

They would find the child, and the last piece she needed would be in her reach.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Sorry, allergies and general malaise have slowed my progress yet again. I will do my best not to take so long with the next chapter._

 _Only remark I have is on the term 'flannfluga.' It basically translates to 'she who flees the male sex organ.' The male counterpart is the term 'fu_ ð _flogi.' They were used for anyone who shunned marriage, usually on the basis of their sexuality. There was a possibility that they could be penalized by the law for it, particularly in Christianized regions, mainly because people had a responsibility to marry and reproduce, and the Christian societies had their own moral codes that spoke against such relationships. There are many known Old Norse slurs for gay men, but there is nothing really known about lesbians, though the law codes referencing them make it obvious that they were known about; flannfluga is not necessarily a slur, but to accuse someone of shunning their societal obligations can cause trouble if that is not exactly the case._

 _I wasn't going to be so obvious about the ConisLaki pairing, at least not this early into the fic, but I decided why the hell not. They can blame the weed._

 _I was so happy when I remembered I could use cannabis/hashish in this time period, btw. Law was even happier. He needed the nap._


	34. Chapter 34

_Warning: Violence, gore._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _A King's Game_

Grey clouds shrouded the afternoon sun as they searched the forest. It tried to burn through, occasionally a wisp of cloud moved enough to free a warm ray of light, only to be obscured once more as another cloud drifted into place.

He found the weather suited her that day.

Enel road beside her, watching as she stood in her saddle to see far ahead on the path and listen for the falcon's bell. Ohm road ahead, shouting commands at his dog from his own mount. Holy sprinted off the path to follow the bell when it echoed off the trees, and Enel waved for his men to follow on foot while Nami settled back onto her horse, lips pursed in nervous anticipation.

Nami was afraid. She was terrified of what might have become of the girl. She was terrified of what fate she may meet should she be alive within the forest. She was terrified of so many things, yet through it all, hope glimmered like the sun that fought against the clouds.

They had searched every crevice and crag they came across that afternoon. There were more than the last time he journeyed through his forest. The summer rains and storms washed away rocks and trees, piled them atop each other in ravines and valleys. The child was likely dead. Drowned or crushed, he could not say. Nami swore she had seen her in a vision, heard her cry. The child's ghost, he suspected, crying out for a proper burial.

Nami had been irate when he suggested it two hours into the search. She had dared to fume at him, to splutter defiantly that she would find her.

She was terrified that he was right.

Yet still that damn stubborn hope remained.

Another shout carried back to them. This time it was the new slave crying out her cousin's name. Nami squeezed her mare's reins, bit her lip, and peered into the thick forest to watch the others scamper over fallen logs and slick rocks.

She turned her horse to follow the others but brought the mare to a halt just off the path. Her gaze snapped up. Fear darkened her visage as she searched the clouds.

"What is it?" he asked, drawing her wary gaze to him as he trotted up beside her.

"The weather…" She gnawed on her lip and searched the clouds again. She shivered once. "A storm is building to the north. There's not much time before it hits us here."

Enel sighed. He had no desire to search in the rain.

He relaxed in his saddle and shut his eyes. He ignored the snort and whinny of his horse as he stretched his senses further. The breeze rustled through the trees. Holy barked somewhere in the distance. A stream trickled toward the east, a river flowed to the north. A raven cawed, another answered.

A bell's chime. A stone skittered over broken ground. The falcon shrieked, and then he heard it.

 _Whimpering._

"To the west," he commanded, kicking his horse to gallop ahead of the search party.

Nami shouted at her women as she raced after him. Ohm hollered for his dog and their men. He ignored them as he glowered at the forest before him, his mood darkening with his ire.

How long had she been in his forest? How long had that vermin scratched about his land? How had he not heard her until then? How had she stayed so silent? Did the gods protect her, too? Did they shroud her voice as they shrouded Nami's within Yggdrasil's branches?

The falcon flew through the boughs above them, swooped down with a shrill cry. He heard Nami laugh behind him and then the bird flew off ahead, followed by the woman, spurring her horse to sprint past him.

Her grin was bright enough to chase the building storm away.

That infernal hope. He could not wait to crush it.

It would be even sweeter if he allowed it to grow, if he allowed her minuscule victories. She would believe she had won when her wolf came for her, and when she learned the wolf had only come to die at his feet, she would finally understand how worthless her hope was. She would be destroyed. Every last flame would be doused with Eustass' blood. And then she would truly serve him, as she should have from the start.

The only hope she need have after this war was the hope that Jarl Arlong would not be able to reach her again. She will be grateful when she realizes he is the only one who can grant her freedom from the giant that chases her. He was the only one strong enough to protect her. He was the only man and god she need put her faith in. He was the only one she needed to fear.

Nami came to a skidding halt just as the trees opened into a deep ravine. He slowed to a stop beside her, took in her wide eyes and gaping expression, and then let his gaze cast over the ravine.

She had spoken of a snake in her vision, one with blue and green scales that swallowed her whole. Before them were the remains of a flood that had swept through the ravine, carrying with it rocks and trees and mud to cover an older formation. Boulders piled up within the center, bolstered by shredded trunks and roots, covered with the slick green sludge of leaves ground into a pulp and mixed with algae and mud. The sun broke through the clouds and light fell on a patch of shredded flowers. _Blue flowers_.

The ravaged ruins looked just like a snake, slithering through the ravine with the trickle of water that remained of the flood.

The falcon landed on top of the snake, scratched at a loose rock. The rock fell free and loosened a handful of larger stones and boulders, sent them crashing into the stream. The snake's gaping maw was opened wide and he could clearly hear the little girl's sniffles and tears within an old crag that had been swallowed up by the flood's debris.

"Aisa," Nami called out, leaping from her horse to slide into the ravine. He glowered at her urgency. Her hope burned bright as she clambered over the stones, no fear remained in her.

Laki sprinted by, Conis behind her. The women slid through the mud to catch up with their lady, their own hopes sparked by hers.

Ohm caught up and stopped beside him, whistling for his dog to stay away from the loose rubble. "She is in there?"

"She is," Enel answered. "It seems the Sami woman's tale was true."

"As was Nami's dream."

Enel frowned. "So, it was." He knew the dream had not been a lie, but he still had not expected to find the girl alive. He should have known she was there. He should have heard her. He glared at a nearby oak. It was as silent as ever. He could hear the rest of their world, but he could not hear the god that should reside in that tree. "The gods favor her."

And have forsaken him.

It did not matter. He would tear them from their halls and force them to acknowledge him. He would claim a hall above all of theirs, the only god the people need worship and fear. He would kill the gods and rule in their place.

"What will you do with her?" Ohm asked.

"Hm? With whom?"

"The little girl."

"I promised Nami I would show mercy."

"You do not mean to, do you?"

"Not as much mercy as she may wish, but her punishment will not be death." He glared at the entrance of the cave that the women had disappeared into. A cry of joy echoed out to them, a sob of relief followed. No, she would not die that day, but someday she would not be so fortunate. None of them would be so fortunate to survive.

Except for Nami. She would be the last one standing when the war was over.

"What are you standing around for?" he called to the men that lingered outside of the cave. He could hear the women climbing over the slick rocks inside, coming back to the surface with the girl. "Help Lady Nami from that cave," he ordered. "And get the food and water from the cart for the child."

Ohm joined him as he slid from his saddle and ventured into the ravine. He found a rock to perch on while he waited and glowered at the voices that grew louder. Laki was overjoyed. Nami's hope was clear in her voice. She would make a move against him soon. This victory would make her bold. What request would she have for him this time? She had spent his time away slaving over a map. He had no doubt there was more to that map than the excuses she gave. She would send her wolf a message, intelligence that should benefit him in the war. He looked forward to seeing how she crafted it and how she would hide it from him.

The women stumbled from the cave, the little girl cradled in Laki's arms while Nami and Conis helped support her as they climbed the loose boulders. When his men went to help them, one reached out to take the child but Laki snatched the girl away and glared. Nami cooled the woman's temper while Conis took an offered blanket to cover the girl.

"He's just trying to help," Nami assured her slave. Another man held food and a skin of water that Nami took with a grateful smile. "Aisa, you need to eat quickly. I'll ride back to the hall with her, hopefully we can beat the storm, but we need Corazon to look at that arm."

"Bring the girl to me," Enel called before Nami could continue to relay orders and decide the girl's fate before he could.

Nami straightened at his command, appeared ready to argue, but swallowed down her retort and gave him a shaky nod. She gently shoved Laki forward, meeting the woman's vehement glare with a fiery, stubborn one of her own. Nami knew that the situation would quickly turn against them if they did not follow his orders. His men would drag the girl to him, if need be. Fortunately, Laki saw the danger as soon as a guard moved toward her. She cradled her cousin close, turned her glare on the men, and stepped toward him without further prodding.

"Set her down," he commanded. "Let me have a good look at her."

Laki gently lowered the girl to stand before him. Her defiance gave way to her fear as she brushed dirty, knotted brown hair from her cousin's face. The little girl glowered, but he could see the quiver of her lip that she tried to hide with her pursed expression.

She shivered, more from the cold than from any fear. Her plain red dress was muddy and tattered, the skirt torn off at her knees. The scrap of cloth made for a makeshift sling, cradling her left arm. He could just make out the frayed ends of another piece of her dress, part of a sleeve, tied just above her left knee – the fabric no longer red but dark brown. Cuts sprinkled over her left cheek and chin, there was a bruise on her left temple.

"Come closer," he ordered. "Let me see your arm."

The girl glanced at her cousin who gave a wary nod. Laki remained close, refused to let the child face him alone. He would not lay a hand on the girl, but the woman's fear was wise.

He hummed when the child pushed the sling back, exposing the broken limb to him. Her bare arm was pale save for the bruise that spread over her forearm. Dark purple and blue and red surrounded a swollen lump where the arm bent unnaturally.

An angel with a broken wing.

He waved for her to step back while he spared a glance to Nami. She wrung her hands, worried her lip. He would not spoil that fearful visage too soon. He would make her stew in that fear.

"How long were you in my forest?" he asked, turning his gaze to the little girl.

"Um… Seven… Or eight days," the girl said, her voice quiet and timid. "I'm not sure how much time passed while in the cave, but I had been in the forest for six days and was about to return home when I fell."

"Your cousin said you normally return home within a fortnight, but this time were gone longer than two weeks. If you had only been in my lands for a week, then where have you been hiding this whole time?"

"The rains slowed me," she explained. "It's been a very stormy season."

"So, it has," he mused. "Would it not have been wiser to return home when the rain hampered your journey? You would not have fallen in my ravine. Your cousin would not be enslaved by my lady. You and your family could be safe in your home if you had heeded the gods' warnings, if you had not broken my laws."

She bowed her head and said nothing in response.

"What did you eat and drink to sustain yourself while trapped in that cave?" he asked.

"I ate the bread and cheese I saved for the trek home, and I drank the water that dripped into the cave."

"You ate nothing from my forest? You did not hunt any rabbits or snakes?" he asked. She shook her head in response. "What of my berries? Did you pillage from one of my cloudberry patches? Or take from an apple tree?" Another shake of her head. "Did you drink from my rivers and streams? Bathe in my lakes?"

"I drank from your rivers, yes. I did not bathe."

He hummed as he considered the weight of her crimes. She did not hunt or steal from his lands, but she drank from his water. "I will announce my judgement once we've returned to the hall," he decided. He knew she was guilty of trespassing, but he wanted more time to consider her punishment.

Laki and Aisa nodded in understanding. Neither appeared eager to hear what he planned to do.

Nami hurried forward and took the girl's good arm. "Let's get you to my doctor," she whispered.

"No," Enel said firmly, startling Nami. "She will not ride with you."

"Then…" Nami frowned in thought and glanced to the cart. "Then she can ride in the -"

"No," he said, lowering his tone to tell her that there would be no argument. "She will walk."

"But…"

"If that is too much, then her cousin may carry her, but she will receive no further help from you or my men. I have been gracious enough to share my food with her. She needs to learn to bear the consequences of her foolhardy, reckless choices."

"But you said you would announce your judgement at the hall."

"And I will. This is hardly the punishment I have in mind for her, it is merely a life lesson."

Nami slumped with defeat when she realized there would be no further rebuttals. She glanced to Laki, smiled apologetically. He thought she may try to help carry the girl herself, aid her climb from the ravine, but one look at him appeared enough to change her mind. She turned away without another word and headed for her horse.

His men allowed Aisa to drink her water and finish a meager meal. She would need the nourishment for the walk to his hall. He would not tolerate it if she slowed their progress, not when Nami predicted another storm. As it stood, they would not reach the hall until past suppertime, and it would likely begin raining before then.

"Come, Lady Nami," he called to the woman. She stood with her horse, feeding it slivers of apple while they waited on the girl. He had no desire to wait longer than necessary. "We will ride ahead of the others. Ohm, I leave you to lead the rest back. See that the slave woman does not get any ideas of fleeing with her cousin."

"Yes, King Enel," Ohm grunted.

Nami did not want to agree with his commands. He could see the simmering fire in her eyes. She was annoyed that he would not let her have her way in this, but she knew better than to argue. She climbed into her saddle and when she looked at him next, her expression had turned cold, her face carved from ice. There was no emotion to be found.

It was enticingly beautiful.

He did not press her to talk as they rode back to the hall. She rode a few paces behind, her silence as chilly as her visage. He allowed her to sink into her anger until they crested a hill that overlooked the village and fjord. The sky had darkened and light rain began to fall, making the air that much colder.

"Are you still angry with me?" he asked, slowing his horse so that Nami would ride alongside him.

"I am not angry," she bit out, contrary to the pursed frown she wore.

The obvious lie made him laugh. "Did you truly believe I would show the child such pity as to overlook her crimes?"

"No, I knew you would punish her as you saw fit."

"And yet you take issue with it, even though I mean to keep my word and spare her life."

"She is just a child. And she is injured."

"She is a child who undermines my rule by wandering my lands without my permission, flagrantly ignoring the terms of her tribe's exile. She was naïve to think she could get away with it for long. Since she is still young this is a perfect opportunity to beat some common sense and proper forethought into her." He noticed Nami stiffen in her saddle. Fear flashed in her eyes. It was gone before he could gain more than a glimmer of satisfaction from it. "She will learn, just as you desire her to, and in the future, she will take more consideration of the consequences before behaving so selfishly."

"Do you already have your judgment in mind?" Nami asked softly, her hands tightening around her reins.

"I do."

"What is it?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She did not look at him, did not turn to face him. Her expression remained cold, her tone distant. The mask of apathy was perfect, flawless. She had worn it many times before.

He chuckled as he kicked his horse into a trot, eager to reach his hall before the rain came any harder. He did not deign to answer her, she would find out with the rest.

He heard the falcon call out from the forest before it swooped down and flew by. It had followed them at a distance as they rode back. He could feel the bird's gaze on his back the whole way, and when it passed him by, he swore it glanced at him.

"That falcon was in your dream, correct?" he called to Nami once the bird had flown further ahead, aiming for his hall.

"It was," she answered.

"Who wears the cloak?" he asked.

Nami did not answer until he sent her a hard look over his shoulder. She understood the warning in his gaze. He could remain silent when she asked a question, but she had no right to refuse to answer him.

"The fylga that visited me in my dream was an ancestor," she said.

"I see. I suppose that is to be expected," he mused. She did not seem to be lying about the fylga, but he sensed there was more to the falcon than what she said. "When you came here, I had you tell me of your visions and dreams. I remember you mentioned the first vision you had of me came in a storm, and that it was Thor who gave you that vision."

"That is what I assume. I was beneath an oak in the middle of a thunderstorm. When Kid… _Jarl Eustass_ told me about you, who your family was, I felt more confidant that it was Thor that called to me."

"You did not hear his voice?"

Nami hummed. "No. He did not speak to me in words. It was just a feeling. The same feeling I get just before a storm, but stronger. _Louder_."

"Hm, you have heard the Norns, though?"

"Yes."

"And the falcon… Has your ancestor tried to speak to you?"

She hesitated in her answer, but he saw no fear in her gaze when he looked back at her. She seemed curious rather than worried about his questioning. She shook it off after a moment. "It has spoken to me."

"What did they have to say?"

She pursed her lips and seemed to search for an answer – _a lie_. "They reassure me," she said. "They tell me that I have chosen the correct path, even though I have much to do to reach the end." He turned away with a hum, but she was not finished. "And they told me you cannot hear them."

He snapped his head around to glare, urging her to explain. Her fear returned, but rather than shrink away, she pushed her horse to keep up with his and stammered an explanation.

"They have told me your seidr is unrivaled in our realm, that you can hear and see those around us. But you cannot hear the gods. The falcon said that Thor has spoken of it, that not only you, but your family can no longer hear him. From what I understand, the change occurred sometime after your family joined with mine," she said.

He turned away as she looked at him with that curious expression, eager to hear if she had been told true. It seemed he could not keep this truth from her. It did not matter. It did not weaken him in the slightest. He did not need the gods, after all. He was fated to rule over them, just as he would rule over Midgard.

"It is true," he admitted. "When you walk through the rowans in the courtyard, you feel Sif within, correct?" Nami nodded. "I feel nothing but bark and leaves. The same for my oaks."

"But I thought you could hear better within your forest?"

"Ah, I can hear this realm. It is silent and peaceful in the trees. The roots are old, extend long ways and weave with the roots of other plants. It is just like lightning, how it branches out and stretches across the sky. I can send my seidr out through the trees and roots, feel the vibration of people far away, and listen to their voices carry back to me." He chuckled. "As for the gods, they exist in another realm, and are so far beneath me, I would have greater luck hearing an ant's voice than theirs. I do not need to hear them."

"What about your visions? Do you not believe those may be sent from the gods?"

"My visions are my own. I can see without the gods," he said flatly. "It was a great gift they gave my ancestors. While I have no doubt you and this test were sent to me by the gods, I have no need of their magic to fuel my own, nor do I have a need of their existence in any way. When this is over, they will no longer exist for anyone."

"So, you will have no use for me after this is over?"

"You are the _only one_ I will have a use for." He glanced at her again. "Do not disappoint me."

The warning in his tone was clear. Nami stiffened, her hands tightened around the reins to hide their trembling. She nodded once, and the conversation was dropped.

Enel gave his horse a short kick and rode ahead, calling back to her through the rain. "Wash up and rest. We will have a late supper. If the girl arrives in time, I will announce my judgement tonight."

He knew that they would not return so quickly, not with the girl's injuries, and not with the rain turning the dirt paths to mud. His men would be hobbled by the cart they brought, too. But, he would not inform Nami of that. He would rather she sit all night, wondering on his decision, worrying over her slave and the girl. It would make her reaction to the child's punishment all the more entertaining.

When he and Nami reached the hall, they found Corazon waiting for his new patient. He glowered at Nami as she swept in, her mood still cold and sour. She grabbed the southern doctor by the arm and dragged him away, dismissing how he growled and hissed in contempt at her forcefulness.

She ignored Ove, who sat by the fire drinking ale while his slave stood nearby. Ove perked up, watched her disappear with Corazon, but refrained from following her. Kamakiri seemed more eager to hear whatever Nami and Corazon would whisper about, but Ove snapped his fingers and held his mug out to the man, silently signaling that he fill his cup.

Enel knew the command was less about the ale and more a reminder to Kamakiri that he should mind his place in the hall. Whatever Ove was plotting, he needed the slave to remain complacent and not be distracted by Nami's affairs. Enel was not overly concerned with the traitor's interests. He would contend with the man when he showed where his loyalties truly stood.

While the servants prepared supper, he amused himself by listening to the Frankish whispers that carried from Nami's work room. He could not understand most of what they discussed, but it was obvious that Nami had found a patient ear to share her misgivings and anger with. He knew she was upset and scared, the emotions fueled her temper and restlessness as she paced the length of the room. Corazon occasionally whispered back, hushed her when she grew too loud and disturbed McKinley's sleep, but otherwise allowed her to carry on her tirade until the servants called her to eat.

As he expected, the girl did not make it to the hall in time for supper. It made for a quiet meal with so many of his own men escorting the child and slave in their trek through the rain. Nami did not speak as she picked at her food and stared listlessly at the door. He did not try to break her silence. It was too pleasant to disturb, and he enjoyed watching how anxious she grew as she waited for his judgement.

"Nami," he called to her as the servants cleared their plates. He knew she would not retire for the evening until the others returned, so he decided he may as well occupy her time. "Play a game of tafl with me."

His command drew her attention from the door. She stared at him a moment, her expression devoid of emotion, and then glanced toward Corazon before nodding in agreement. The doctor excused himself to see to McKinley, but Enel had no doubt he would return to observe their game.

The attempt to keep her occupied quickly proved futile.

He had played the game with her from time to time since he took her into his hall. She was skilled enough at strategy to ease the boredom he often felt playing the others, and if he did not care to be her opponent, she provided him with endless amusement by besting his guards and warriors. She rarely followed the rules set out, but none seemed to notice except for him. She was wise enough not to attempt trickery in her games with him, but it would make no difference if she had. He knew how she would cheat, and he knew how to react to turn it against her.

That night she did not try to cheat. She did not even try to play a competitive game. He preferred to play king and allow her to attack first. He typically won the matches within twenty to thirty moves, depending on his mood and how closely he paid attention to her. He would allow her to capture his guards, one after another, drawing her attackers to one side of the board and leaving a lane open to move his king to the corner for his victory. That night he won the first game within fifteen moves and did not even have to move his king to escape. He captured all her attackers and only lost one of his own. He never retained so many pieces.

He played three games against her and all were quick to end with little damage done to his guards. Nami stared at the board, her eyes empty, devoid of thought, before she would move a piece in a seemingly random direction that was easily countered. If there was a noise outside, her whole attention turned to the door and she didn't even bother to see where she moved her pieces.

By the fourth game, Corazon had returned to the main room, and Enel had grown bored with the farce of tafl playing out before him. He would even dare say that he was disappointed. He expected better from her.

"Retire for the evening, Nami," he commanded as he slid his king by her last three attackers and took the corner for his escape. "We will deal with the girl in the morning."

"I'm not tired," she insisted.

Finally, he had her attention, even if it was only to argue against his orders. Such a stubborn woman.

"Ove," he called to the traitor priest. "Escort Lady Nami to her quarters and see that she goes to bed." Nami sat straight, prepared to argue again, but he held her gaze as he added, "Knock her out if you must."

The threat put an end to her obstinance. She sent one last forlorn glance to the door, and then bowed her head to him in defeat. "Good night, King Enel. Thank you for all your aid today," she said with the utmost formality in her tone.

She would ask a favor of him when the girl arrived. _What is her crafty little mind scheming now?_

She stood from the table and sauntered away with her back straight, head held high. The glare she sent her escort was cold as ice, but she did not dismiss him though he could see she wished to in the purse of her lips. She stormed ahead of Ove, her despondent mood forgotten in the face of a thinned temper.

Corazon stood from the chair he claimed by the fire and turned to leave the room now that his sole reason for being there had gone.

"Play a game with me, Corazon," Enel called to the doctor as he reset the pieces on the board. "Nami provided me with no sport this evening. Perhaps you can provide better entertainment."

Corazon glanced over his shoulder, his expression clearly displeased with the order. Grudgingly, he nodded and took Nami's seat.

They began the game in silence. Corazon was an observant player. He knew Enel's typical strategy, was not distracted by the guards, and countered well. He was still no match for him, but at least he did not lose within a few short turns.

"How does McKinley fare today?" Enel asked as he finished the first game, his king safe in the corner.

"As well as yesterday," Corazon answered, glowering at the board. "His fever persists, and he thrashes in his sleep, but he has not woken in hysterics again."

"And his legs?"

"I will not know how severe his disability is until he has woken and is well enough to walk. I have seen no signs of infection, though. No rot. Nothing worrisome around the breaks." The board was reset, and Corazon made his first move. "The only way to guarantee a full recovery would be an invasive surgery that no doctor has successfully undertaken as of yet. I would have to cut apart his legs, break the bones again, and then piece them back together. The patient would be in pain for weeks, maybe months, or even years. There is a greater risk of infection. And if I am not careful, I could cut a vital artery and kill him." His lips twitched with a sadistic smirk. "It is unfortunate I cannot amputate his broken legs and replace them with working ones."

"Perhaps you can practice on the rat you keep in your home," Enel suggested, chuckling at the glimmer of dark delight in the doctor's eye. "You removed his hands. Find some poor soul who does not need theirs and see if you can give the rat a new set."

"Hmm, but I prefer him without hands. Even if he whines about it."

"Have you checked on your prisoner recently? Or do you trust Ove to keep him alive?"

Corazon shrugged. "I have heard complaints of screaming from the guards that patrol the area. I trust that means he is alive."

"And surely missing his captor," he quipped.

Corazon chuckled. "Is that meant to hint that you want me out of your hall?"

"When McKinley has woken and no longer needs such extensive care, I would prefer you return to the home I have lent you." He moved a guard to capture one of Corazon's attackers. He would have victory again in less than ten moves.

"You do not like me so close to your lady," Corazon stated as he slid another attacker into place and captured two of his guards.

"You distract her from her responsibilities." He moved a guard to block an attacker. Corazon would capture it, but it would draw the attacker away from the corner. He would capture the attacker in two moves, and then take the corner in four.

Corazon captured the guard, glowering at the board. He saw the likely end to the game, as well. "She does not seem so distracted, at least not by me. I would be more concerned with her care for these Sami people than the companionship I've provided her."

"Her interest in the Sami is obvious," Enel said as he moved toward the attacker. "Easily dealt with. You are a trickster with murky allegiances and interests, and I do not like that you whisper to her in a language I do not understand."

"And yet you have not killed me."

"I have no need to."

Corazon hummed as he tried to counter the impending capture, but his only option was to flee, which left the corner open for his king's advance.

"Do you agree that I was too harsh to make the child walk to the hall?" Enel asked as he took the attacker.

"As a doctor, I do agree that the child should have been brought to me with haste. She has been out in the elements for days, with a broken arm and other injuries. Her health needs to be tended to immediately if she is to survive her ordeal," he answered frankly. "But it is not my place to tell you what to do with a trespasser, and I am a capable enough physician to treat her no matter the condition she returns in. It matters little to me, personally, if she was made to hike for the better part of an evening in the rain."

"But it matters to Nami."

Corazon hummed in response, glaring as the king swept into the corner. Another victory complete.

"Tell me, Corazon, would you prefer to be an attacker, or would you prefer to be a guard?" Enel asked.

Corazon looked up, his brow raised in confusion. "I do not have the option of being the king?" he asked, snide amusement in his tone.

"Few men have such an option."

"Perhaps in this game, but that is why I do not care for this game."

"You don't? What game do you prefer, then?"

"Chess."

"Chess?" Enel mused. "I have heard of it. It's popular in the south, is it not?"

"It is. I believe it comes from India, but my familiarity with it comes from my father's Muslim kin, and my fondness of it grew while I lived in Castile after my family died."

"So, tell me, what makes chess superior in your view?" He leaned forward, braced himself on his palm, eager to hear what insights he might glean from the subject.

"It is truer to the strategy of warfare, in my opinion." Corazon plucked the golden king from the board and held it between them. "Most wars are waged between kings. Each king vying to take what the other king has. With tafl, there is only one king, but in chess there are two. Each player is their own king, with their own armies to command."

"Ah, that may be true in the southern kingdoms, but that is not always the case in the north," Enel argued. "Here we had chieftains, each a king in their own lands. They would be attacked by lesser men with barely any land to call their own that hoped to steal the throne and the power that came with it. And now there are only a handful of kings, true kings, and they must defend their thrones from lesser men. A man does not become a king unless he kills the previous king, unless he is fortunate enough to be the king's heir and they hold onto their rule long enough to see him succeed."

"And that is where you are mistaken. Every man that wages a war against a king, already believes himself to be a king," Corazon countered. "The reigning king may not agree, but his challenger still comes with an army of warriors who respect him enough to die for his claim. They view him as king, and it is by their declaration that he is a king before he has captured a throne. Did you not already believe yourself to be the rightful king before usurping the previous?"

Enel glowered in thought. Corazon had a point there, one he was loath to admit. He waved for him to continue.

"As I was saying, wars are waged between kings, not attackers and guards protecting a king. Armies are built upon cavalries, infantries, sometimes chariots or siege towers, and at the center stands the king to be protected as he gives command," Corazon explained as he set the king on the board and surrounded it with golden guards and silver attackers. He left one place empty beside the king and pointed to the space. "And beside the king stands the one who rarely strays far from his side. This piece is an adviser, at least that is its title among the Moors, but among the Latin speaking countries the piece has become known as the queen."

Enel hummed. "You prefer the queen?"

"I suppose I do." Corazon chuckled. "Every king has his advisers and his queen. The adviser is supposed to be the king's closest ear, his most astute aid in political matters, while the queen is a figurehead in most kingdoms. She is there to seal alliances with powerful families, to be the vessel that brings the next king into the world, to inspire adoration in the masses if she is fair and kind. She is often overlooked by the king because she has no true power in his mind, or in the minds of the advisers that surround him. Overlooked… and underestimated."

"Yet they make her a piece on the board."

"Because she should be. She is the one who is beside the king when no one else is. She is the one who hears the grievances he bears his advisers, she is the one who soothes his ire after a difficult session at court, she is the one who shares his bed and lets him feel like a man when he may doubt his own strength and competence, and she is the one with ample opportunity to whisper in his ear and fill his mind with thoughts his advisers might never have considered, all while allowing the king to claim them as his own."

"You make her out to be the most powerful piece on the board," Enel said.

"She may well be." Corazon shrugged. "But she is hobbled by her station and her sex. She is often sacrificed for the well-being of the king. Given sufficient freedoms, though, she has the potential to rule the board as her own, all while the king flees his rivals and attackers."

Enel nodded his agreement. "In these lands it is not unheard of for a woman to rule without a husband. We know the power that women hold. Even the poorest man knows to listen to his wife when she whispers in his ear."

Corazon chuckled quietly. "Is that why you humor Lady Nami's whispers?"

"She may not be my wife, but I do find it amusing to hear what she has to say. And is your preference for the queen why you have ingratiated yourself with her before she has become one?"

Corazon shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps I just enjoy her company as most men are wont to do." Enel glared at the sly gleam in his eye. "With a war on the horizon, I have faith that Nami will choose the side of the king she believes is fated for victory, and thus it would behoove me to secure her favor."

His interest in Nami remained suspicious, but if what he said was true, then Enel could contend with it after Jarl Eustass was defeated.

"Tell me, since you prefer chess to tafl, what piece would you choose to be on the board? Since there are two kings, do you desire a throne of your own, with a queen to rule at your side?" Enel asked.

Corazon stared at the tafl pieces with a thoughtful frown, toying with the king beneath a fingertip as he considered the question. "There is a throne I have my eye on," he admitted after a long moment of silence. His gaze flit up, lips turned into a wry smirk. "Not yours, if that is what concerns you." He chuckled to himself as he pushed the king piece side to side. "But no, in this game, I would prefer to be a knight."

"And why is that?"

His smile grew. "Because in all the stories, all the old tales, it is a knight that slays the dragon."

"And there is a dragon you wish to slay?"

"One sent from the heavens, or so he claims," he said as he knocked the king over. For a fleeting moment, his expression turned into a sneer of contempt, of simmering anger. A dark, hollow pit was carved out within his chest, and there dwelled a monster clawing to be free, to be fed with blood and death and endless chaos. A monster that would consume the man if he did not tame it.

Enel hummed. "You should be wary of dragons, Corazon. Sigurd is the only mortal man known to slay such a creature."

Corazon snorted. "You are the second prophet to warn me of dragons."

"Then you should be doubly wary. You will be consumed by such a venture."

"I will take your advice into consideration." His flat tone said that he would not.

Enel did not care if Corazon wished to walk straight to his own demise. So long as he kept Nami out of it, then it was of no concern to him.

"Tomorrow," he declared, changing the subject with a wave of his hand, "you shall teach me chess. Nami, too. A new game may provide me with a greater challenge."

Corazon once again glared at the command. "I will have patients to tend to."

"When you have a moment after seeing to the girl's injuries," Enel said. "McKinley will continue to sleep tomorrow, and Ove will guard your rat." Corazon seemed no more pleased or willing, so Enel graced him with a thin smile. "I am sure it will please the lady, too. At least it will provide her with a new distraction. It might even inspire her. If you desire her favor in any way, it would not hurt to give her more to occupy herself here."

"She has more than enough to occupy herself," Corazon argued, and then sighed as he gave a short nod. "But, fine. I will teach her, and you may watch."

"Impertinent brat," Enel muttered. "I will inform her at breakfast," he said as he sank back in his chair. He heard splashing out in the courtyard, the distant patter of feet running through thick mud and heavy rain. "Your new patient will be here shortly. Go off and prepare what you must. I will send her to you."

Corazon hid his sneer of contempt as he stood and left the room. He seemed to despise taking orders, more than most men. His schemes dictated that he humor the king's commands, and possibly even Nami's. The success of his goals took priority of his pride. Enel was curious to see how long he would last before he behaved with more outward disrespect. He was bold enough to speak to his betters with sarcasm and snark. How long before he undermined the king's authority? Or did he already work to do so?

Enel dismissed the thought as his guards began to trickle in. His men were covered in filth, soaked from the rain, and grouchy. Warm food and ale would not be enough to lighten their moods.

"Feel free to take a thrall or two to your beds tonight," he called to his men as the servants helped them remove their wet cloaks and offered them food. "Just leave Lady Nami's alone," he added as Laki stumbled in with the child perched on her back, Conis at her side to help steady her. "But do whatever you wish to my slaves to better your moods. I don't care what happens to them."

A few men grumbled their thanks. Most appeared too exhausted to take up his offer. It mattered little to him. When they heard his judgement of the girl and witnessed her punishment, their long hike in the rain would be forgotten.

"Woman, the doctor awaits your cousin," he called to Laki. "See that she is treated and then retire for the evening. I will make my judgement after breakfast. Conis, your lady was restless this evening. You would be best to see to her needs. She should still be awake in her quarters."

Conis bowed her head in a proper show of respect, despite her own weariness. Laki curled her lip in a sneer as she nodded, hefted her sleeping cousin high on her back, and trudged to Corazon's room without a word of gratitude.

She would not thank him for anything on the morrow, but if she were wise, she would prostrate herself before him and plead for forgiveness. The farce would amuse him enough to consider leniency. Or at least pretend to.

With his men settling in to eat a midnight supper, Enel made his way to his chambers. He passed Corazon's room in time to hear the girl scream out. The doctor had broken her arm again to set it properly. The scream was quickly muted. He peeked in on his way by, saw that Laki covered her cousin's mouth as she cradled the sobbing child to her breast. She whispered sweetly, pet her hair, soothed her pain all while Corazon braced and bound her arm.

The doctor glanced at him. His expression was stony and apathetic, as devoid of emotion as Nami's had been for most of the night. If he was bothered by his task, or Enel's observation, he did not give it away.

"I forgot to mention," Enel called to the woman. "The girl is to sleep in a secure room, under guard, for the night." Laki's gaze shot to him. She prepared to argue. "You are welcome to stay with her."

Laki relaxed and nodded her agreement. She would not leave her cousin's side any time soon.

Enel found a guard and relayed his orders. Laki and Aisa would be treated as prisoners, fed stale bread and water for the evening, and made to sleep in iron chains. It was good that Laki was so willing to share in Aisa's punishment. He did not want her whispering in Nami's ear all night, vying for more pity from the woman who would had no authority in his judgement. It was in his best interests to keep them separated for the night. Nami could not make promises, could not plot to undermine him further.

As he made his way outside, he heard a flap of wings, the groan and crackle of a branch, and looked up to see the falcon had perched itself in the rowans. Its watchful gaze held him as he passed, its black eyes narrowing as it cocked its head to the side. It did not attack, had not acted aggressively toward him once that day. He had expected it to snap when he stroked it while it perched on Nami's arm, but it dismissed his existence entirely. Now it peered at him as though sizing up its next meal.

He should have his hunters seize it. The feathers would make for a beautiful addition to Nami's cloak.

As if it could hear his thoughts, the falcon leaned forward and screeched before taking off in a flurry of feathers. The bird would likely not return again lest Nami had need of it.

All the better for him.

Torchlight flickered from Nami's quarters when he entered the building. Whispers carried to him, soft with fear and worry.

"Corazon is seeing to her," Conis whispered. "She will be all right."

"I'm not worried about her arm," Nami said. "That is the _least_ of my worries."

"The king said he would be merciful. He listened to your request. He will listen to you when he decides his judgement."

Nami said nothing in response. He snorted a quiet laugh as he turned away. She knew better than to expect anything from him. Her definition of mercy would see the girl released without harm. She knew that he would never do such a thing.

"Go to sleep, Nami," he called over his shoulder.

Something clattered to the floor in her room, joined with a quiet squeak of surprise.

"Y- Yes, King Enel," she stammered in response.

The women fell silent, but he knew Nami would not sleep. She would remain awake hoping to see Laki and Aisa come to her quarters once Corazon had finished his treatment. She would lie awake all night for them. She would have need of more kohl to hide her exhaustion at breakfast.

He slept well that night, as he did every night. He had no anxieties to keep him awake. He was confidant in his path, knew he would be victorious in all his ventures, knew he was right in all that he did. He did not toss or turn. He did not have nightmares. He dreamed of Yggdrasil and the beast's growls and howls far below in the roots. Even with the frothing anger of a wolf echoing in his mind, he would never be restless in his dreams.

He woke well after dawn, took his time to wash his face and dress for the day. He tried to hear what Nami was up to that morning, but it was strangely silent in her room, leaving him to wonder in what state he would find her at breakfast.

Clouds darkened the sky, thicker than the day before. The wind was cool and smelled of rain. A dreary, cold day. With a dreary and cold lady awaiting him in the hall. If Nami's mood was any indication of the weather to come that day, he half expected to see snow within a few hours.

She was polite, albeit distant to him when he entered the hall and took his seat. Her smile did not reach her eyes as she wished him a good morning. Those eyes were dark, lacking the glimmer of hope that annoyed him, and lined with black kohl to hide the evidence of her sleepless night. She appeared complacent, resigned to whatever judgement he announced. He expected her to interfere, to request an audience with him to plead the case for mercy, but it seemed she realized how futile that would be. The only thing she asked of him was how he slept and if he would like the extra slices of apple they served with her breakfast.

She was learning her place quicker than he thought she would.

He was further surprised when she did not regard Corazon as he slipped into the room for his meal. The doctor glanced at her, but she paid him no mind while she nibbled a slice of bread slathered in butter and honey. She spoke to no one, save for Conis and even the words she spared her servant were clipped and formal. Judging by Corazon's frown, he was as surprised as Enel by her mood, which meant her ally was unaware of Nami's thoughts or plans regarding his judgement. Whatever drove her to wear such a hard mask was not discussed with anyone.

"Bring in the child," Enel called to his guards. He was too curious of Nami's mood to wait any longer. He needed to learn what she was up to this time. "And Ove, you will need to spare your slave for this judgement."

The traitor priest glanced at him but did not argue as he waved for Kamakiri to stand in front of the dais. The guards escorted Aisa and Laki into the hall, still in their fetters.

The only reaction Nami gave him to the sight of the women in chains was a slight curling of her fingers. No surprise, no anger, no remorse. Her nails gouged the wood to show her discomfort, but the gesture would have gone unseen if he had not looked for it. No one else in the hall would notice, not when her expression remained so stoic.

"Girl, step forward," he commanded, turning his full attention onto the trespasser. The child trembled as she stepped before him, clutched her broken arm and kept her eyes fixed on the wooden beams beneath her feet. "I will not toy with you by asking for your plea. You are aware that you broke the treatise I set with your tribe when I exiled them. You are aware that you trespassed upon my lands. You have done this before, and I will not allow it to continue further."

He heard nails scrape wood but did not bother to look toward Nami again. She did not raise her voice to stop him. She knew her place.

"Laki and Kamakiri have been sentenced to serve two of my priests as their bondsmen because of your actions. You will share their punishment and serve Lady Nami in whatever capacity she wishes until the day she discards you." He watched Laki's shoulders sag in relief. Kamakiri took a deep breath but did not seem eager to celebrate just yet. And Nami still did not speak, made no sound to give away how she felt about the decision. Surely, she would be happy to have the child in her care and protection, just as she had Laki, but she knew better than to believe he was finished. "But first you will receive eight lashings. One for every day you were within my forest, to your best recollection."

"She's just a child," Laki yelled, her moment of relief vanished at the announcement.

Hers was the only voice of protest within the deafening silence of his hall. Not even a grumble of disgust or gasp of surprise was raised from a soldier or servant or priest. Even Kamakiri sagged in resigned defeat. He knew how little power Nami and Ove had to stop him, something Laki had yet to fully realize.

She stepped before her cousin and glanced toward Nami. Enel followed her pleading gaze, but the priestess remained as cold as a winter night, her chin aloft. Laki could not see the marks in the wood of her table as he did, as far as she could see, her supposed ally and savior did not care a whit about what was to happen to her cousin. Laki's jaw slackened in surprise as she tore her gaze away from Nami to plea with the only one in the room with real power. "You cannot do this to her."

"I am the king and you will not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do with a criminal," he said flatly, waving for his guards to come forward. Laki flinched away when a guard took her arms, Kamakiri stared in surprise when another grabbed him. "And I believe I am being very generous in my decision regarding her crimes." He waved toward Nami. "You can thank Lady Nami for my mercy. If not for her request, she would receive thrice the lashings, and I would set her and the both of you adrift on the sea to pray for mercy from your gods. But you have a point about her being only a child. She is hardly the sole one responsible for this event. Her guardians and tribe bear just as much, if not more, responsibility for not deterring her from the path she chose. Therefore, Laki and Kamakiri, you two will receive eight lashings, as well."

Laki froze in surprise as she futilely looked toward Nami to intervene. She was wise not to argue the ruling herself, it would only subject Aisa to the full brunt of the punishment he intended.

"King Enel," Nami spoke up, much to his surprise. Her manner remained cold and aloof, but she graced him with a forced smile. "May I make a small request?"

"And what request do you have for me this time?" _What foolishness is she about? Has she not learned her place as I hoped?_

Her smile grew in some manner that he supposed was meant to appear polite and overjoyed. But instead of sweet and endearing, she reminded him more of a shark, a ruthless predator circling her prey with smug satisfaction.

Or perhaps a cunning little cat, ready to pounce on the snake hidden in grass.

"You agreed to make Laki my slave, which means that she is my responsibility. You would not have to sit here and entertain her continued insubordination and contempt for your laws if I had not requested to keep her for myself. And you would not have spared so many resources to search for the girl if not for me. Now you have made her my slave, too, and thus she is mine to do with as I please."

"And what do you please?"

"Allow me to enforce your judgement," Nami said, that cunning, cruel smile turned to the shocked slave standing before them. "Ove may deal with his slave, if he wishes, but I am willing to dole out his punishment, as well."

Enel was stunned by the request. He expected her to plea for mercy, perhaps even offer to stand in their place judging by her claim of responsibility for them. He would not allow for mercy on them, and he would certainly not allow her to take the abuse they earned, not until she made a more definitive move toward her wolf's side and earned her own punishment.

He could not help but laugh at the madness of her request. He thought she meant to make these Sami her allies. She would turn them away from her side with this. Or was it all a ruse? Would she show them the mercy his guards would not spare? Would she find a way to free them, let them run for the mountains and escape his judgement? That would put her in immediate danger from his wrath. He could not see her putting herself at such risk. She had too much to lose.

"So be it," he declared, curious to see her true intentions. "Guards. Tie them up in the square. We will attend to them shortly." He looked toward Nami as his guards wrestled Laki and Kamakiri from the hall. Aisa went with them, her head hung in resignation. She spared one thoughtful look toward Nami but trudged out of the hall without a word against his decision. Nami had dismissed the Sami in favor of the remnants of her breakfast, her mask of apathy in place. "I will see that there is an audience for this," he whispered to her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "We would not want our people to miss this opportunity to see just who their future queen is and what she is capable of."

Nami forced another smile and nodded in agreement. "Of course."

His militia spread throughout the village to announce his judgement and call for the people to gather in the square. It took a few hours for everyone to arrive, leaving his prisoners to wait in the misting rain that began to fall by mid-morning. To keep everyone occupied, he had his servants pass out rotten food from his stores to pelt the Sami with. The activity would keep his people warm and patient while they waited, and it would amuse him to see the criminals covered in filth and refuse.

While he went to watch the crowd jeer and insult the prisoners, Nami chose to remain inside his hall. She complained that it was too cold to stand around, so he offered to let her toss a few heads of cabbage. She glowered, the heat of anger flaring to life in her eyes before it was carefully smothered. She turned her face away, huffed arrogantly, and waved for Conis to bring her another cup of milk to wash down the last of her breakfast. She muttered, "Perhaps next time," in some shallow attempt to satisfy him.

"And perhaps next time it will be a wolf," he whispered back. Her nails renewed their clawing, but he could not see her expression as she kept her gaze fixed on the other side of the room. "And perhaps it will be rocks, rather than vegetables," he added, amused with the gouged wood that appeared beneath her fingertips. "Though, I would prefer he be conscious for his beheading."

She swallowed thickly and finally turned to look at him. Her forced, predatory grin spread as she coldly responded. "That would be more preferable."

He laughed at the lie and stood from his throne, gesturing for his other priests to join him. Ove held back for a moment, pretending to savor the last of his pork. The traitor's gaze flit toward his lady too often for anyone to believe his whole interest was on his food. Ove grudgingly stood to follow once he noticed Enel's hard glare.

After an hour of sitting upon the wall of his fortress, he could admit Nami was wise to remain indoors. The mist turned into a drizzle as he waited. His mood soured as his cloak soaked threw and left him damp beneath. Even the sight of his people chucking gourds and apples at the prisoners was not enough to please him.

There was something unsettling about the day. Between the weather and Nami's agreeableness, a knot of worry formed in his gut. Her secret scheming nagged at his thoughts, left him to wonder what she might gain from enforcing his rule. She had made it clear that she disapproved of all that he did, the judgments he made, the authority he wielded over his territory without law-speaker or jury to uphold his rule. This lashing would be a farce unless he forced her hand, forced her to satisfy his need for blood.

Nami left the hall, tucked in her cloak and an extra fur shawl around her shoulders, with her ally close at her side. Corazon's expression was bored and aloof, as closed off as Nami's. He had not heard them whisper while alone in the hall. They had not discussed Nami's plan, but Corazon seemed unbothered by her intentions. Whatever they may be. Did he have his own suspicions? Or did he blindly trust her? Or did he simply not care? Enel could not be sure.

He did not like their companionship. He would have to test it soon. He had no reason to exile Corazon, but he could make their trust waver.

Or he could just kill the trickster. He would have to eventually to keep Nami from falling into Corazon's hands. He would not tolerate a kidnapping scheme interfering with his voyage across the western seas.

No, he will deal with the wolf first, and then the trickster. Corazon would not make a move until this war was through. He was too careful and cautious to act rashly.

"Lady Nami," Enel called down. He would not be distracted by his suspicions. He must focus on securing the woman's faith. "Your prisoners and people grow restless waiting for you. Shall we enforce my judgement?"

Nami pursed her lips and nodded. Corazon's gaze flit to her, but he still gave nothing away to his own thoughts.

Enel climbed down from the wall to lead the pair out into the square where the other priests waited. Ove, Satori, and Ohm stood at the edge of the crowd that gathered. Satori had been delighted to join the people in their game. He riled the crowd to get them to throw as much food as they could, cheered when a cabbage burst against Kamakiri's face. He laughed and danced when a rock was thrown, jeered at Kamakiri as blood trickled down his temple. Ove and Ohm had watched the chaos with stoic expressions. He knew Ohm was merely bored, or perhaps itching to put an end to the captives' misery. A quick slice of his sword would free them from their hell. Ove kept his arms crossed over his chest and dug his fingers into the fur of his cloak. The big bear may appear apathetic, but he wanted to put an end to the punishment, and not as lethally as Ohm. He was not pleased to watch the mockery and torment.

He had a soft heart somewhere beneath that cruel sneer.

"Settle down," Enel commanded as he slipped between Ohm and Ove, Nami following behind. "I have called you all hear to bear witness to the punishment I have decided for these criminals. They have desecrated my laws by stepping foot in my forests, my lands. They have insulted the gods, my forebears, and for that they will receive eight lashings apiece, to be delivered by your future queen."

He waved Nami forward as the crowd muttered in surprise. Her expression was icier than it had been in the hall. She knew the people whispered about her, but she did not appear to care how they saw her.

She slipped off her shawl and cloak, handed them to Corazon, and gracefully tied back her long, wavy mane of hair with a leather tie. With her hair tucked back and out of the way, she turned to Ohm, who held the slender knout of his own creation. Long leather lashes were fixed to a heavy leather handle, weighted with an iron ball. Fine pieces of metal were woven into the lashes; thin as thread and sharp as a sword. Ohm's ordeal of iron.

Nami gripped the handle tight, ran her hand over the length of the leather, inspected the end, tested the weight. Her movements were easy, casual, as simple as they might be if she were about to do the wash or work at the loom. The thought of whipping three people she may have need of didn't faze her. It was just a normal day to her.

That was when he realized she had done this before.

He snatched her arm and tugged her close. She stiffened beneath his fingers, her eyes widened in surprise. He leaned down to whisper in her ear and her breath caught with her fear.

"I want to see blood on their backs, Nami," he said. "Blood and broken skin." Her grip tightened on the whip and her jaw clenched. "If I do not see a single cut, I will have Ohm tear the dress off your back and see that you take every lash meant for them." He grinned at the fear that radiated from her and pressed his lips to her ear. "Unlike your traitor, I do not mind the thought of bedding someone with a web of scars upon her back," he hissed.

Nami jerked away, trembling. Her face turned white as she searched his gaze to find any trace of a lie in his words. She would find none.

He had not planned it, but he would not mind making her a queen the traditional way. It appeared she was not as willing to take him as a lover as she often claimed, though it could be the lashing she feared most.

She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and gave him a shaky nod and forced smile before turning away with her cold mask back in place. While Ohm readied Kamakiri to take the first punishment, Nami went to a spot five paces from the stake. She fiddled with a sleeve of her yellow dress, squared her shoulders, and then stared straight ahead with a look of fierce determination.

Kamakiri's back was bared for her, muscles tense and bunched in anticipation of what was to come. The crack of the whip rang through the air, as sharp and deafening as a lightning strike, and Enel could not restrain his grin at the bright red splash of color that appeared on the man's flesh. Kamakiri tried not to scream, but he let out a cry of agony when the second strike came with a splatter of blood upon the ground, quickly washed away by the rain. By the eighth lash, he sagged against the stake, slipping down despite the ties holding his arms aloft. He sobbed as he desperately clung to the only thing holding him up, his back a bloody red mess.

Nami remained as cold and callous as she had at the start.

He expected her to break when Kamakiri was taken away and replaced by Laki. He expected to see her falter when the woman's dress was torn down, exposing her to the chilly rain and the ridicule of his people. But Nami merely wiped Kamakiri's blood from the lashes, staining her beautiful dress without a care, and prepared to inflict the same punishment upon her slave.

Lightning streaked through the clouds with her first strike, drowning the snap of the whip with real thunder. Enel laughed, even as the sky split open and hail mixed with the rain, pelting them all with stinging shards of ice.

"Our ancestor has joined us here, Nami," he called to her through the downpour. "Do you feel him in the storm?"

Nami glanced his way, her lips tugged into a furious frown. She did not answer, save for unleashing another strike upon her slave. The rain turned red with blood.

He could hear his people whisper as Laki cried out. They huddled close, shivered from the cold dread that washed down their backs. He could hear their terror as they saw the woman that would rule beside him, saw her ferocity. She would become exactly the woman he wanted her to be. She would bend the world at his will, send the people to their knees, or strike them down if they refused. No matter how she schemed now, no matter how she sought to change her fate, she would become his to claim. She would be the sole survivor, fearing him and worshiping him as the god he was fated to be.

When it was Aisa's turn, he saw anger flash in Nami's eyes, but she did not hesitate in her duty.

Only the rain and the thunder and the lash of the whip could be heard in the square for the last punishment. The people grew silent, watched in shock as the child whimpered and clutched the stake and tried not to cry as the others had. Suddenly they felt remorse, pity for the criminals that they had been all too willing to mock and torment moments before. They remembered how quickly the situation could change, how easy it was for any one of them to find themselves in that very position. They remembered how often he took one of them to be placed in stocks, flogged, exiled, or executed. All for a whisper, for a lie, for a taunt, for a piece of slander, for a petty theft. His rule was absolute, none were immune to his judgement.

After the final lash, Aisa tried to fall to her knees before Ohm could undo her ties. Laki crawled through the mud, clutching her dress to her chest to maintain her modesty, and embraced her cousin as soon as she was free. The girls held tight to each other as they sobbed and shivered. Laki ran a hand through Aisa's tangled hair, drew her back to wipe her tears, and struggled to give her a shaky smile to assure her that the worst was over.

 _Why would she believe that?_ Enel wondered. _How can she smile at all?_

His gaze fell to Nami as she made her way back to him. Her shoulders were rigid, back straight. Her eyes remained as cold and hard as the soil in winter while she held the whip out for him to take.

The lash dripped with blood, the leather handle slick and painted red.

"Does that satisfy you?" Nami asked.

He handed the whip to Ohm and stepped closer to Nami. She stiffened in alarm and tilted her head back to meet his gaze. Kohl streaked down her cheeks from the rain. Black tears to belay those she restrained. He wiped one away, drank in her cold, clammy flesh as he smeared the kohl over a pale cheek. His thumb traced down to her jaw. Her eyes trembled with fear as he held her chin.

He grabbed her left hand and saw her wince.

Her fear grew as he slowly smiled. She trembled as he leaned in. "I will overlook this stunt," he hissed in her ear. "You gave the people a good show. And I'm satisfied with the blood you've offered me. But next time…" She shuddered at the threat left unsaid, grimaced when he squeezed her hand. "Go inside and clean up. You've done enough for me today."

She stumbled back, gasped for a breath, and composed herself enough to bow her head. She snagged Corazon's arm and tugged him close, ignoring the doctor's irritated scowl. "Will you please escort me inside," she said to him through a strained smile.

Her ally regarded her, his annoyance melting into confusion as she buried her hands into his black cloak and tried to hide another shiver. He glanced at Enel, his brows furrowed. He did not understand their exchange, did not see what Enel had. But he relented with a grunt, carefully tossed Nami's cloak over her shoulders, and pulled her toward the hall without further questioning what had just transpired.

"Oh, and do not forget, Corazon," Enel called to them. "You have promised to teach me your chess." Corazon stopped to glare over his shoulder, still displeased with the command. "I will see to my ship while Lady Nami changes. When I return, you will teach her and me this game."

Nami glowered in confusion. "I already know how to play chess," she said.

"Oh?" Enel had not expected to hear that. "When did you learn?"

"Arlong taught me," was the only explanation she gave before tugging at Corazon's arm. "I will help teach you," she said as they began to walk away.

"I look forward to it, Lady Nami," he said, tugging his cloak higher. "Yet another game for me to beat you at."

* * *

Law was in shock. He would never admit, never show it, but he had never expected to witness what he had that morning. Nami could put forward a front of apathy so cold, it made him feel a tremor of concern for the people she had struggled to protect. He had never expected to see her raise a whip to any of them, not when she needed them, not when she sympathized with their own plights, not when she had risked her own safety to speak against the king's wish to execute them.

The exchange between her and Enel after the punishment only left him more confused. Her dress was stained with blood and yet the king seemed displeased. She had done exactly as the king wished.

Or so he thought.

He did not notice anything amiss until they entered the hall. Nami's grip had been tight on his arm, her nails pricking him through thick wool and leather. He thought it was from the cold, or the fear Enel instilled in her. But then her weight fell against him, as heavy as stone, and he had to grab her around the waist to keep her from falling to her knees.

She clasped a bloody hand to her mouth to hold back a sob.

"I tried to hold back," she whispered in Frankish. "I tried not to… I spared them the worst… But I had to cut them at least once…" She squeezed her eyes shut and tears streaked through the kohl that stained her cheeks. "If it had been Ohm… they would have died… they would have…"

She was convincing herself that she had done the right thing, that the punishment she doled out was better than what they would have endured at another priest's hands. She was likely correct, but a person could still die from an infection after a lashing. It was common for the torn and tattered skin to have difficulty healing after such trauma. With how much blood he saw, she cut them more than once.

His gaze fixed on her hand. There was too much blood on her. It should have washed away in the rain, or when she wiped her hand on her dress. But there was still fresh red blood dripping from her hand, soaking her sleeve to turn the wool an ugly brown.

He snatched her wrist as soon as he realized what she had done, yanked her left hand close to see the extent of the damage. A knife slipped out of her sleeve to clatter on the floor, but he was too busy staring at the deep gash marring the back of her hand to care about the weapon.

"I had to make it look real," Nami explained, drawing his attention to the smile struggling to hide her pain and fear. "Enel will only be satisfied by blood. He only wanted to see blood. Mine is as good as theirs."

"Nami… you…" He took her right hand, turned it over to find her palm and fingers covered with tiny scratches. She had run her hand over the lashes to coat them with her blood and sliced her skin on the metal woven in the leather strips. The scratches were superficial but would not be comfortable as they healed. The gash on the back of her hand was of more concern to him. She could have cut sinew, damaged tendons. She very well could have crippled her hand. All in the vain hope that she could spare three people who may as well be strangers to her from the full pain of their lashing. If Enel had not been satisfied with what she had done, if he felt the injury she inflicted upon herself was not enough, then she very well could be on her knees in the square with her own back shredded by Ohm knout. "Self-sacrificing idiot," he muttered.

She responded with a watery laugh.

"Let's sew this shut before you get an infection."

This woman continued to amaze him.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I'm still writing this, I swear, I'm just working very very slowly. Enel's point of view was harder to write in this chapter than I thought it would be, which is also why it took so long to finish._

 _And I believe I warned before that I would make the EnelNami a bit more blatant, though I still hadn't expected it to be like this. Enel just kind of falls for her in his own weird, twisted, sadistic way, lol. And then I offset it with some LawNami tease because I can and I know a lot of you do like that ship, too._

 _There is a reason that Arlong knows chess and taught it to Nami. It is actually part of his backstory in this. But that won't come for a long while yet, ahahahaha._

 _Do you guys miss Kid yet? I know I do. I'll get back to him eventually, lol._


	35. Chapter 35

_Warning: Mentions of gore, violence, rape._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda._

* * *

 _The Wait_

He preferred when his dreams brought him to Yggdrasil's well. There was a chance that he might hear her when he lounged in the nest of knotted roots. It was not often that he would hear her hum within the boughs, but when he did, he knew she did it for his sake. Her voice soothed his impatience, eased his loneliness even though it made his heart ache when he woke to find her gone.

He knew her mood those nights. If she hummed, then she was pleased and happy. He hoped it meant that her plans were progressing, that soon he would have the freedom to take her back. The rare nights when he heard her cry were the worst nights, but he knew the tears would come eventually. She had to be scared in Enel's hall, fighting for herself in the face of a madman's ambitions. He doubted she had a chance to grieve for those lost in the battle. She was the type of person who would hold back her sadness until the weight became unbearable, but she would not break down until she was alone. He wanted to claw his way to her, break his chains and climb the boughs, find her and hold her tight until her tears left her.

The need to comfort her had been foreign to him, or at least strange to have such a visceral desire to make someone he only just met feel safer, calmer, happier. It was an urge only she had ever conjured in him so quickly, and it was not a feeling he could easily ignore. The thought that he could not take her pain away tore at his heart and he woke with the raw ache still in his chest. Ale did not take it away, demolishing a tree with an axe did not ease it. He knew it would not leave him until he had her back in his arms, where he could protect her from ever feeling sad again.

Weeks had passed since he sent Enel his declaration of war and he had yet to receive anything from the king or Nami. It was a blessing in disguise, he supposed, though he was eager to hear word from Nami. Even Ove had not yet been able to send a message to them, a fact that worried him, but he had faith in the man who volunteered to be a spy. He would not get himself killed so easily. In the meantime, he could only continue to rebuild and gather his allies.

Wire had gone to Hedeby and returned within two days to announce that Bonney would arrive in a month's time. He thought the length of time was unnecessary, especially when she was aware that he would call on her as an ally. She should have had her karls and ships prepared. He did not want to wait another month to attack Enel. He was furious enough that he had to wait at all. He wanted everyone in place the second his chains were loose.

He would have rushed straight to Hedeby to give Bonney his opinion on her timing, but Wire's uncomfortable expression gave him pause.

"She wishes to visit Francia first," he explained. "There is someone she needs to speak with about this war."

Kid snarled in contempt, but his gut said her reasons were important. He was not pleased with the news, not pleased that she may have contact with someone within Francia who may be interested in this war. He felt that the interest lay less with the politics of the war, and more with the reason for it. She had insights into this curse, into Nami's existence, that he did not, and her position in Denmark gave her a connection to the Frankish kingdom, especially the Normans. She hated the Frankish king, but she was content to trade with their Norman cousins.

Nami supposedly had kin in Normandy. Did Bonney know who they might be? Did she withhold just how much she knew about Nami?

Kid forced himself to ignore the implications of Normandy's involvement in his war. He would deal with that should it bear importance.

He sent Wire off to Álasund after a couple days rest. He needed Jarl Iceburg's support. If not his men, Kid had use of his ships. He expected Wire to return within days, a week at most, but nearly two weeks had passed without word from his men or the other jarl, and Kid had grown restless.

His dreams were the only place he could find peace, but even there he found it hard to come by as of late.

Flies had taken to the field.

Another reason he preferred to sit beneath Yggdrasil. The flies did not bother him there. But they had found their way to the field, to nag him while his temper whittled away at Freyr's queries.

 _What would you sacrifice?_

The question would come to him on a breeze that rustled the grass and flowers in the field. He would answer as he always did, that he would give anything to have her back. There would be a sigh, and then the annoying bite of a fly would give its opinion. He didn't understand how his answer was wrong. The gods could ask for anything and he would give it, so long as he had her in return. What more could they want? What more could he give? Did they want his life? Because they could have it. He had already vowed to sacrifice himself for her freedom, he was not afraid to die.

He only needed to have her.

Only once.

The fly bit harder at the mere thought of that need. It buzzed in his ears loud enough to deafen the wind and the god's renewed sigh. He could feel their disappointment, their annoyance. His answer did not satisfy them.

 _Would it satisfy her?_

The thought had come unbidden one night. He knew it was his own. The flies seemed to recede, the sun glowed brighter as he mulled that question.

But then the clink of the chains broke his thoughts and he remembered the vision of Nami, helpless in the shadow of the giant that loomed over her while he could do nothing to save her. His temper erupted with a shout. He thrashed in his chains, struggled to shatter the stone. The flies swarmed, shrouded the sun, and he woke in a furious rage.

The last remaining birch behind his hall did not survive.

His heart raced with his anger and impatience. He needed to be calm. He needed to wait. He needed to have faith in Nami, to trust the woman he had sworn himself to. He needed to believe in the people he surrounded himself with. Bonney was an earl with wisdom centuries old, an elder with the face of a young woman and the carefree nature of a child. If she decided to go to Francia before warring with Enel, then she had her reasons and he could not stop her. Wire was a competent sailor, a capable soldier. If he was delayed, then it was for an important reason that Kid could not control, he could only wait and have faith in his brother.

He was not well practiced at controlling his temper, but it was the only thing that he could control for the time being.

Twenty-two nights after he declared war with Enel, he dreamed of the field and was forced to witness a sight that tested his temper beyond anything he felt in the past.

The dream began pleasant enough. The sun warmed his flesh, soothed his ire. He breathed the sweet scent of the air and let himself laze on the stone. He swore he was calm enough to nap there, and when he napped within his dream, he was often taken to Yggdrasil to be gifted with her voice. But the gods did not allow him such a respite that night.

The grass and flowers hissed with movement that he struggled to ignore. Something soft and cool touched his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut and ignored whatever moved along his arm. It crossed his chest, over his shoulder, burrowed behind his neck.

His eyes shot open at the pressure on his throat.

The head of a snake appeared before him, its jaws wide, fangs dripping with venom. It hissed and coiled around his neck, strangled him.

' _What do they see in you?'_ the snake hissed to him. _'Why do they fawn over a reckless brute like you? A wolf with an iron heart. A man who claims to love a woman, yet leaves her alone to cry, to wallow in grief and fear, helpless to change her fate. A man without the courage to shatter this reality, to force change. He is too afraid of the chaos that may come. He is too afraid of what he does not know, does not see.'_ Venom dripped in his eye. He ground his teeth as pain burned a path down his spine, growled to restrain the urge to cry out. _'Perhaps it is best that way. Perhaps we should just let you die. She is not alone. Even now. She has someone who understands her. She is cared for. Her heart would be safest in his hands.'_

His temper flared when another drop of venom blinded him to the field. For a moment he saw only black, heard only the incessant buzz of the flies.

The scent of honey and orange and the sea filled his nose. He opened his eyes, hoping to find Yggdrasil, but he remained in the field. The snake had vanished.

But his anger only grew.

 _A monk shrouded in shadow and smoke. The rot of death, the sharp scent of blood. A thousand black flies with a thousand black eyes._

He stood before the stone, his robes billowing in the wind. His face was obscured, but Kid could sense his smug satisfaction as he cradled a bundle of soft orange fur. A hand painted black with blood caressed the creature until it purred.

 _A cat_.

 _Nami._

He roared in his anger and the world shook.

' _Enough of these foul scented lies,'_ a voice boomed. A golden boar crashed out of the trees, barreled into the monk that burst into a swarm of flies. The cat vanished with the illusion. The snake returned to his neck with a snickering hiss before it was ripped away.

The cloaked, radiant god emerged from where he hid to interrupt the snake's trick. He chucked the snake into the field, and Kid listened as it slithered through the grass, still snickering to itself.

' _I was merely helping,'_ the snake said, its voice clearer, deeper. _'After all, she requested my aid. And not all of what I said were lies.'_

Kid craned his neck to see where the snake hid. The cloaked figure stood beside him, his back to the rock. Protecting him. His presence soothed Kid's ire, but he still wished to see who had toyed with his temper.

A shadow flit through the trees. The boar gave chase. Leaves rustled, the boar crashed into something with an annoyed grunt, and laughter rang out over the field.

' _Gullinbursti, play nice,'_ the snake called out from the tree tops.

' _I allowed your presence in the hope you would help push him in the right direction. You may as well have shoved him off a cliff with this stunt,'_ the figure beside him bellowed. _'He needs to learn patience. Calm. His temper is too unpredictable.'_

Kid would agree, but that temper was whittling away again as they spoke of him as though he were not there.

' _His temper is too unpredictable_ ,' the snake repeated, his tone mocking and snide. _'I agree he needs patience, but she does not seem to mind his temper. I see no point in changing that. May as well take advantage of it if there is any chance of getting some sense and reason through that thick skull of his.'_

' _He isn't going to have an epiphany while in the midst of red-eyed rage,'_ the god argued. _'He was so close.'_

' _And then he got angry.'_

' _Which is why I cannot have you angering him.'_

' _Which is why I angered him, anyway. He's getting angry right now. It is futile to control it.'_

"I could control it if you pricks stopped speaking in riddles and toying with my fucking head," Kid shouted over their bickering. "Give me a straight fucking answer and tell me what the fuck you want."

' _But that's not even a little amusing,'_ said the snake.

' _You won't learn anything yourself if we give you the answers,'_ said the god. _'And I thought you took issue with his chains,'_ he added, turning his attention back to the snake.

' _I did, and I continue to take issue with it.'_

' _Then why would you add snake venom to his plight?'_

' _Symbolism?'_ the snake answered unconvincingly. The god scoffed, but the snake continued. _'And I wanted him to get mad. Did you feel how the earth shook with his rage? He may very well shatter those chains on his own with that madness.'_

The god sighed in response.

' _And did you not say that you need his fury? That she needs it?'_ the snake asked.

' _I did, but not here, not when he needs to find a purpose and direction for that rage.'_

Their argument ended at an impasse. Kid let his head fall back against the stone with a disgruntled sigh. He was tired. He was tired of their questions, their tricks. He just wanted to live his life free to do as he pleased. He wanted Nami to have that same freedom. He wanted to free her from her fears, from the deaths that haunted her. He wanted them to be free from the gods' meddling, free from people who thought to restrict them, claim them, use them.

He just wanted to live.

The god shifted beside him. The silence around him turned meaningful.

' _Perhaps your methods are not wrong,'_ he muttered. The snake hummed in response while the god reached out a hand. Darkness swallowed up the field, but he felt only peace as Freyr's voice echoed around him. _'Let him mull on that thought.'_

He came to within the nest of knotted roots. He could smell Nami in the mist and rain that trickled through the gaps in the roots. She whispered his name upon the wind, and that was all he needed to hear to set him at ease. She missed him. She longed for him. She wanted to live as he did.

 _Live._

He woke confused yet calmer than he had woken previous nights. His chest ached with longing, but for once, he did not wish to rid himself of it. He let it simmer as he readied for the day, acknowledged the weight as he washed his face and hands, thought on the hollow pit as he dressed.

Did she feel the same when she woke in the morning? Did her chest ache as though a rope tugged on her heart, fought to pull them closer while so much held them apart?

"Kid?"

He shook away his thoughts and found himself in his hall, staring down at an untouched breakfast. Killer sat beside him, his wounds improved enough to see him move around for longer intervals. He could feed himself again. Grooming remained an effort, but Killer could at least comb his hair on his own without irritating the wounds that continued to mend. Kid only had to help him shave and clip his beard away from the scars on his left cheek.

"Where has your mind been this morning?" Killer asked. "Have your dreams given you more to think about?"

Kid grunted. They had given him too much to think about. "I think the gods want me to live," he said. "I don't understand what else they want of me, though. I don't understand what they want me to sacrifice to get her back."

Killer hummed but gave no thoughts of his own on the matter, no wisdom that might clear the confusion in Kid's mind.

"Perhaps you should focus on the present," Killer said. "There is still much for you to occupy yourself in the village while we wait. Focus on the world around you. The answer will come to you in time."

In time? He did not have much time. He had to act soon.

"Heat, does Gunda still refuse to leave the women's quarters?" he asked. A dozen women had been widowed in the battle, twice as many children left as orphans. He repaired two of the larger hovels to house them in while he waited for word from their kin in other territories. Gunda felt safest with women, so he allowed her to move in with the others while she continued to heal. He had hoped the company would remedy her sadness, but her malaise continued.

Heat nodded where he sat at Stig's bedside, binding the archer's chest. Stig was nearly healed, but he had broken ribs in a fall and his chest ached when he used his bow. The binding helped. In another two weeks, he should be well enough to shoot again.

"The women have informed me that she does eat," Heat said. "That is an improvement."

It was not enough. "I need her to send a message to Hulda. She is the only one here who will not be killed on sight. She is the only one that woman may listen to."

"She will go when she is ready," Heat insisted.

"I need her to go immediately," Kid growled. "I'm tired of being patient with her. If she wants to lay down her sword and forsake her duties, then she can run to my sister's lands and find asylum there. I'll spare her any injury for being a coward."

"Kid," Killer rebuked. "It was a difficult battle."

"I don't care," he snarled. "I said she can run." Nami would kill him if he didn't pardon Gunda's desertion. "I just need her to send my witch of a sister to take her place. She can do what she wants after."

"I will go," a soft voice called from the door. Gunda stood alone, her head lowered to hide her scarred face behind a veil of shorn brown hair. She wrung her hands in her dress and appeared to grow smaller as he glared.

Killer smacked the back of Kid's head hard enough to make his ears ring, but Kid would not apologize for what he said. He felt no remorse for his words. He respected Gunda as a warrior, was proud that she had fought as hard as she had for Nami, but that did not change his opinion of her behavior since. He understood she needed to mourn, he understood that her melancholy came from the feeling of uselessness and failure, but he could not understand why she allowed it to persist. The war was not over yet, they could still bring Nami back, and then she would see that her lady harbored no resentment toward anyone that fought to protect her.

She would resent them more if they died despite all her efforts to save them.

"Geir and Axel will go with you," Kid grunted as he dug into his cold porridge. "Be ready tomorrow at dawn. You only need to tell her that I wish to speak with her. I'll discuss the details of the war if she comes. Understood?"

Gunda nodded. She knew how ruthless that family was. Even the lady she once protected was as ambitious as her father had been. The last he saw her, she played her part as demure lady, but rumors had carried to him from across Noreg that she and her cousins were joining hands with other karls. They were building an army in the south. Proposing an alliance was a risk on his part, but it was one he was willing to take.

If Wire returned before his sister arrived, he may be able to piece together a show of might to deter any plots to take advantage of his weakness. But that was only if Wire returned with ships and extra men. It might even be best to wait a few extra days so that Bonney would have a chance to join him. Gunda's melancholy annoyed him, but perhaps it would help prevent an ambush when he least needed one.

"Take your time," he added. "You haven't seen my sister in years. Spend of a few days catching up with her."

Maybe those days would renew her spirit and give her the courage to return. Nami would want to see her alive and well when this was all over.

Gunda nodded but did not leave to prepare her belongings. She remained in the doorway, wringing her dress.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Magnus is giving the women trouble," she said quietly. "His mother is in no state to watch him. The others were hoping you would intercede before he gets out of control."

Kid sighed. The boy had always been a bully in the village, but his behavior was treated as mischief. He would tear up a child's doll and watch them cry, push another child into the mud and laugh, steal their sweets and presents. He was an obnoxious little shit and Kid had never liked him. He reminded him of the last jarl's sons, but his parents tried to rein him in, and when Nami came to the village, she began to instill a healthy fear of punishment that he had hoped would garner some improvement in his behavior.

After Enel's attack, the boy had turned into a monster.

Kid understood the reason for the change, pitied the boy and the anger he did not know how to manage. Magnus had watched Enel's soldiers slit his father's throat and rape the man as he lay dying in the mud and would have had to watch his mother's assault if his men had not found them when they did. He had tried to protect his mother, but he was only ten and no match for full grown men wielding swords and axes. He was fortunate that they only beat him bloody before his mother got in the way and drew the soldiers' attention to her. She had screamed for him to run while the soldiers fell on her, but the boy refused, tried to get back on his feet to attack the soldiers. His men reached them just as a warrior swung a sword at the boy that would have sliced his head clean off his shoulders.

He and his mother had been saved, but he remained angry.

He had not been a problem while his injuries healed, but the women had informed him that Magnus would scream and thrash whenever they tried to change his bandages, had struck one woman hard enough to give her a black eye. His mother was too injured to care for him, and her mind and heart had suffered a deep wound when she had to watch her husband die, her son beaten, and all while knowing that she would be next. The women who tended to her said that she was improving every day, but she needed peace and rest, she could not chase down her enraged son.

They had all hoped he would be better once his mother was able to move and care for him, that as she improved, so would he. It seemed they did not have the luxury to wait.

Kid growled in frustration. He already had two children in his hall requiring his attention, and he was fortunate Ingvild and Sind hardly demanded more than a pat on the head when they were sad, a sharp word when they tried to defy him. They were fed and content, did their chores most of the time, and never demanded he go out of his way to give them affection. Nami was the one who gave affection. They could wait for it until she returned.

His gaze settled on the children that sat at the end of his table with their breakfast. Ingvild swayed in her chair and swung her legs as she sang to herself. She had begun to make up songs that left Kid and his men baffled until they noticed that she had Sind's full attention. He would mimic her words, and then she would stop in the middle of a line and he would take on a frustrated expression before finishing the line himself. Ingvild would smile and nod if he said the correct words, Sind would grin proudly, and they would move on to the next part. If Sind's response was wrong, she would glare while his face would twist in thought. She would hint at the next word until he got it right or give up and give him the answer before moving along.

She had invented a game to teach him their language, one that seemed more engaging for the boy than anything Kid or Killer had done.

He had not let them stray far from his hall unless they were in the company of he or his men. And he had specifically forbade them from being near Magnus until the boy calmed down. Ingvild was smart enough to run away, but Sind had been itching for a fight of his own since he watched Kid's battle. Sind was two years younger than Magnus, but he was already a head taller than the boy and the work he did in the forge and rebuilding the village was making him stronger. On an even battlefield, without tempers clouding the mind, Sind would beat Magnus in a fight, Kid had no doubt about that. But Magnus was angry, and Kid knew what that anger could do, the power that came in a mindless frenzy.

Magnus would kill anyone who stood in his way if he didn't learn to control himself.

It seemed the time had come to teach both boys a lesson.

"Sind," he called out as he pushed his breakfast away. "Come with me."

"Kid? What are you going to do?" Killer asked.

Kid didn't answer as he stood and led the boy out of the hall. Gunda turned to follow without a word of question, she kept her head low and continued to nervously wring her hands, but she didn't try to stop him. He could hear his men follow further behind as he turned down the lane that led to the women's quarters, one of them ran to catch up.

"Kid? Are you sure this is wise?" Killer asked through a rasping breath as he clutched his burned side. He had realized what Kid meant to do.

"You have a better idea?"

Killer had no answer. He glowered and shook his head.

The two hovels were off limits to grown men. He had guards stationed outside, but they were not to go inside unless the women needed their help. Kid was exempt from that rule, though he avoided the homes until that morning.

He left Sind and his men outside as he invited himself into the home without knocking. The women jumped in surprise, one grabbed an axe. They began to relax when they saw it was him but remained uneasy until Gunda stepped inside behind him.

"Where's the boy?" he growled as he searched through the women and children who had been in the middle of their own breakfasts.

"In the back," the woman with an axe said, pointing toward the curtains that separated the sleeping area from the main room. "With his mother."

Kid grunted his thanks and stormed into the other room. A woman still dressing screamed in surprise, but he ignored her as he set his sights on the boy carving crude pictures into the wood of his mother's bed. He froze when Kid approached him, turned terrified and angry eyes up to his jarl.

"Jarl Eustass?" the mother asked, her voice quiet and timid. "What are you doing here?" Her hand - short two fingers - slipped out from beneath her blankets to rest on her son's head. The gesture would normally calm a child, but the boy moved closer to her and turned his knife on the jarl, his lip curled in a sneer.

He just wanted to protect his mother. Kid could sympathize with that.

But he wouldn't tolerate a brat brandishing a knife at him.

He slapped the knife away and snatched the boy by his collar. "I'll return him after supper," he said to appease the startled woman.

"Let me go," Magnus shrieked as he thrashed in Kid's grip. "I'll kill you. Let me go."

Kid dragged him out of the house, stormed through the crowd that gathered outside. His men hid their worry behind deep scowls, the women that came out to join them asked what Kid intended to do.

"Is he going to put him in stocks?" one woman asked. She was answered by a solemn shake of a head.

"Flogging? That is too cruel for a boy. Surely Jarl Eustass knows that?"

"He's not flogging him," he heard Killer answer. "He's giving that anger an outlet."

"Sind," Kid bellowed when he noticed the boy lingered with the crowd. "Get your ass over here."

Sind scrambled to catch up, prompting the people to follow them to the square in front of his hall. Kid tossed Magnus into the dirt and waved for Sind to stop a few steps away. Magnus jumped to his feet, hunched and angry, and lunged. Kid shoved him right back in the dirt.

"You need to learn to pick your battles, brat," Kid growled. "And you need to learn who your enemies are." He turned to Sind as Magnus struggled back to his feet. "You still want to learn how to fight?" Sind nodded, but his response was hesitant. Judging by the wary looks he cast Magnus, he had figured out who he would be fighting. He stepped back when Magnus lunged again. Kid held the older child back with a foot. "We'll start with glima," he said as he pushed Magnus onto his ass. "You got any more weapons on you?"

Magnus sneered in response.

"Take your fucking tunic off," Kid ordered. "Sind, you too."

His ward did as told while the other boy refused to move. At least he had stopped his futile attacks, but Kid didn't have the patience for insubordination. He snagged the boy by the collar, hauled him to his feet, and had to battle to get his top off. He found a pouch filled with rocks attached to the waist of Magnus' trousers, tore the pouch off, and tossed it away. After that find, he searched every inch of the boy for more weapons. He had a stick sharpened to a deadly point jammed into the wool wrapping on his leg, a piece of sharpened flint in his shoe, and second bag of rocks stashed in a pocket.

He smacked the boy upside the head once all the weapons were found. "Sind, take your socks and shoes off, too," he said while he threw Magnus' shoes with the rest of his junk. "You're going to behave, right?" Kid asked Magnus, a finger pointed in warning. The boy growled. Kid smacked him again. "You've seen glima matches. You know the fucking rules. Don't you dare start beating the shit out of my ward or I _will_ put you in the stocks. Understood?"

He watched the boy struggle against his anger, but one glance at the old stockades had him nodding in agreement.

"Good." Kid gave him a firm pat on the head as he stood. "From today on, you'll train with Sind in the morning and then help with his chores in the afternoon. You'll have washing day off to help your mother and the other women with their laundry. I'll keep you so busy, you'll be too exhausted to be angry. But if I hear of any more bruises or cuts on any of the women and children again, I'll treat you like any other criminal who thinks it's okay to take their anger out on my people. Got it?"

Magnus nodded.

Kid waved Sind over once he knew it was safe. "Heat, draw a circle," he ordered.

The other people lingered in the square, much more at ease now that they knew what he was doing with Magnus. Some of his men dragged benches into place around the circle for the women to sit if they wished to watch, another grabbed ale even though it was too early to drink. The boys would be their entertainment for the day, something they were all sorely in need of with the tension looming over the village. It would certainly distract Kid from his own worries.

Magnus had the advantage of knowing the sport, but he didn't know the techniques or grips that warriors used. Sind knew next to nothing. He had watched one impromptu wrestling match in Álasund between two of Franky's men, and Kid hadn't bothered to explain the rules or purpose. Now he had to teach two boys, one of which was still learning to grasp their language. Kid didn't want to bother with needless translation. It would be easier to explain by showing the boys what to do, and for that he needed a partner. He would prefer to use Killer, but that wasn't an option that day.

"Halle, get over here," he called. "I need someone to help me demonstrate."

Halle pointed at himself and grimaced. "No offense, Jarl, but I would rather chop my dick off than wrestle you."

"I'm not going to hurt you!"

"You say that every time, but there's a reason Killer's the only one willing to wrestle or spar with you. Everyone else walks away with their head spinning and bruised from head to toe. Even Ove was bed-ridden once."

"Well, Killer's in no state to help me. You're the heartiest one here, so quit being a coward and get your ass over here or I really will get your head spinning," Kid barked back. Halle continued to balk, wearing on Kid's temper. "I'm only teaching these brats how to wrestle, it's not a real match!"

Halle sighed as he finally relented. He shed his tunic and weapons and stepped into the circle with his head held high, feigning a show of confidence. "I expect you to find me a beautiful woman to tend my wounds after this," he stated.

Kid rolled his eyes. "I'm sure there will be no shortage of volunteers." He turned to Sind as he stripped from his belt and tunic and addressed the boy in English. "I'm teaching this sport to Magnus because it's about honor and respect. It's not about who's angry. It's not about hurting your opponent. You gotta be patient -"

"It's a miracle you're any good at it," Halle quipped.

"Shut it," Kid growled back. "You win by getting your opponent on the ground and escaping. There's no punching, kicking, shoving. You get the best of them, pin them quickly, and then pull away. You don't win until you've escaped. If your opponent starts getting back up before you've completed your escape, then you got to try again. Understood?"

Sind nodded.

"You got height and strength over him but use your fucking head and keep your wits about you." He pointed down at Magnus. "He's calm right now, but he's got a lot of anger in him and that anger can make him unpredictable. It can also make him stupid, especially since he doesn't know how to control it. Take advantage of that and you should be fine."

"Does your anger make you stupid, Jarl?" Halle teased, snickering when Kid turned a hard glare on him.

"I'll make you stupid if you don't watch that smartass mouth of yours," he warned.

Halle grinned, but wisely took a step back. Kid brushed him off as he returned to his lesson, pointedly looking at Magnus.

"First thing I need to teach you is manners."

* * *

Horns bellowed from the fjord close to mid-day. Kid had just shooed the boys into the hall to rest and eat before he planned to put them to work rebuilding another home. They were tired and sore, but the lesson appeared to work as he hoped. Magnus was calmer, too tired to get angry, and the lesson was practical. If he knew how to defend himself, even in play, then he wouldn't feel like the world was so out of his control. The routine would give him something else to focus on, too. Rather than sit and watch his mother mend and stew in grief over his loss, he could learn how to fight so that she was never in such a state again. If sparring and busy-work kept Kid's temper under control, then it would do the same for the boy.

Halle limped in after them, his torso mottled with fresh bruises. A handful of women trailed behind, cooing and fawning over the man just as he had hoped. Kid had gone easy on him, but Halle pricked his temper with his snark and wit, which led Kid to throw him to the ground with more force than necessary.

The village had felt peaceful and almost pleasant until the horns reached them. No one was worried about an attack, their enemies would not announce their arrival, but they were all anxious to see who had come.

Horns meant news. Hopefully _good_ news.

Kid pulled his tunic on and made his way to the docks. Killer joined him, silently anticipating the arrival of a friend or ally.

The first ship to appear on the horizon was Wire's with its wolf flag fluttering atop the mast. Relief overcame him at the sight of his friend, followed by joy when he spotted three more ships behind him. Kid laughed and clapped a hand onto Killer's shoulder.

"'Bout fucking time they got here," he said. It was only three ships, but three ships could carry over a hundred men, and that was better than none.

He grew even more excited when he spotted Franky's blue hair on one of the ships. Franky and his men would provide strong reinforcements in the war, as well as skilled labor to help his rebuilding effort.

A handful of his men rushed to the ends of the docks to tie two of the four ships. The other docks were still in the middle of repairs, so the last two ships were forced to anchor further out. Two men took faerings out to tie the other ships to those at the dock, ensuring that they did not drift too far out, and helped bring their crews to land.

Kid went to greet Wire as he jumped from his ship.

"I apologize for the delay," Wire said as Kid dragged him into a firm hug and slapped his back.

"Rough seas?" Kid asked.

"No worse than I can handle, but –"

Wire was interrupted as Franky charged toward them, catching Kid off guard as he swallowed him into a tight embrace.

"It's unfair for the gods to separate a man from his lover," Franky wailed. "I'm so glad to see you holding up well. Let's go kick the king's ass and get her back for you."

Kid was grateful to hear that the man was eager to help, but he sounded more upset about Nami's capture than Kid was. And his embrace was crushing his lungs.

"What took you so long?" Kid struggled to ask while he waited for Franky to release him. He tried to squirm from his hold, but Franky pinned his arms to his sides and kept an iron tight grip on him. Kid could only wait for the man to cease crying and drop him back to the ground.

"The timing couldn't have been worse," Franky sniffled. "Iceburg… that idiot…"

"There was an attempt on his life," Wire explained. "I arrived just after the culprits fled the territory."

"On Jarl Iceburg?" Kid asked, gaping in surprise. Iceburg had been elected with unanimous support from the people in his territory. No one had ever challenged his jarldom. He was highly respected, had a strong army to protect him, and brought more wealth to the region than any other person could even imagine. And if anyone was dumb enough to take on Iceburg, they would have to contend with Franky, the only other man who might stand a chance to claim the jarldom if he was ever inclined to challenge his brother. He had no interest in governing, and despite all his bickering with his brother, he was loyal to his very bones.

Only a complete imbecile would try to kill Iceburg.

Franky finally released him to wipe his eyes. "That bastard Lucci…" he began to explain but cut himself off with a shake of his head. "This isn't the time to talk about it."

Kid glowered. "We have plenty of time to talk. Come on. We'll get you and your men some food and ale. Tell me what happened while you eat."

* * *

"As soon as Lucci was healed well enough to move, he slipped into Iceburg's chambers at night and stabbed him four times in the gut," Franky growled between bites of pork sausage and generous gulps of ale. "No one heard a thing. He just slipped in and then back out. None of the guards thought anything was amiss. Why would they? Even if they saw Lucci go in, they wouldn't have thought it strange. All of Iceburg's men are loyal to him, why would they suspect him? It was absolute chaos for two days while they hunted down the culprit. Lucci and Kaku helped go through the village and farms, pounded on doors with everyone else, threatened to kill anyone who was hiding this murderer. Kalifa wouldn't leave Iceburg's bedside, praying to the Christian god, as well as ours, for his recovery. It made no sense. None of us suspected a damn thing," he shouted.

Franky slammed his fist onto the table while his men growled and grumbled their own anger. Franky's jaw twitched, his teeth clenched, and when he continued his voice was strained with grief and anger. "By the time Iceburg woke to tell us what he remembered, it was too late. Those bastards took off in the dead of night with one of his ships." He clenched a fork tight enough to snap the thick wood in half. "And while I was distracted, they dug out my hoard and stole a chest filled with parchments and texts from Constantinople. Our old jarl entrusted those with me before he died. And those assholes just took them. When I find them, I'll kill them."

"Who were his accomplices?" Kid asked.

"Kaku, Kalifa, and Blueno." Franky huffed. "I still can't believe Blueno was one of them. His ale was the best in the region."

"I'm surprised you're here and not hunting them down."

"We sent scouts where we could. Paulie had overheard Kaku and Kalifa whispering about Britain one night. He had assumed it was about our raids, but now we're thinking they went back."

"Kaku was asking about a woman when we talked with Urouge."

"That's what my men told me." Franky sighed. "My gut tells me they returned to Francia. They may go to Britain, but they'll want more men first. They'll scour their homelands for allies and then turn to Britain. We sent one knarr to York as traders. They'll ask around the town for any information and see that the Danes send word to us if they see anyone suspicious. They'll send word to Cavendish and Urouge about the possible threat to that woman they asked about, as well. I understand Earl Bonney's your ally. I mean to ask her for information from her Frankish connections. I sent a ship to Hedeby to ask for her aid, but she had already taken off for Francia."

"She should be here in a week. You can talk to her then."

Franky nodded. "How are you holding up here?"

Kid scowled and grunted as he took a sip of ale.

"That bad? You must be heartsick for her every night." Franky snickered.

"Shut up," Kid growled. It was true and obvious to everyone who lived in his hall, but he didn't need Franky announcing it.

Franky slapped him on the back and grinned. "Don't you worry. We'll get the lady back for you."

Kid grunted his thanks. "I'll spare what I can to help you find those pricks once this is over. I like Iceburg. I'll kill anyone who tries to kill him."

"I was hoping you would say that."

"How is he?"

"Still bed-ridden, but he gets up and moves around when no one's watching. I saw him sneak out of bed for a flagon of ale one night. Paulie's at his wit's end with the man. He pretends to sleep when Paulie needs to speak to him about village business, and then does as he pleases while Paulie does all the work. No different than normal, but he's taken advantage of his sewn-up gut." Franky laughed. "But he should be well enough to visit here once this war is over. He hopes there'll be a wedding to celebrate our victory."

Kid looked away, glowered at a post, and tried not to think about what he and Nami would do once he had her back. The thought of marriage, a wedding, it all made his gut twist. It made him anxious, desperate to see this over with as soon as possible. He didn't want to wait anymore.

He forced himself to think about anything but this war and Nami. He thought about her enough at night. He needed to focus on the world around him during the day.

"Are you sure Lucci meant to kill Iceburg?" he asked, brushing off Franky's remarks. "When he wants someone dead, they usually die."

Franky sighed. "You're right, but it doesn't matter. They used the attempted murder to create chaos in the village and territory, giving them cover to slip away with my treasure. They betrayed Iceburg's trust. They betrayed everyone. We won't forgive them."

"Neither will I," Kid grunted.

"So, Bonney arrives in a week, you said. Paulie should be arriving with another two to three ships full of reinforcements around then, too. He's scouring the northernmost reaches of our territories for all the warriors he can find. We'll need them if we're to take on the mad king," Franky said. "Have you sought out anyone else?"

"Gunda will leave tomorrow to speak with my sister," Kid told him. "Either she will help, or she'll attack me while I'm down. So, I'm very glad you arrived when you did."

Franky chuckled. "It'd be in her best interest to help you now. You two can hash out your differences after the king's been disposed. Even we've heard of his ambitions in the west. All of Noreg needs to worry about him before he can lay claim to any more territory."

He hadn't thought about Enel's ambitions beyond Drafn. He knew that Enel would eventually reach for his territory and land, it was too close to the king's to be ignored for long. But his attack had been personal, the land and taxes he gained were merely an added benefit in his victory. Enel's sole reason for attacking Drafn had been to take Nami. That shouldn't be cause to worry for anyone else.

Unless they all saw her capture as a move that would strengthen Enel's claim to rule over all of Noreg. He was a king without a queen and heir, if he intended to change that to further seal his rule, to use her heritage to prove his claim as a king and god, then it made sense for the other territories to worry.

The daughter of the Vanir uniting with a son of Thor… the very thought made him furious.

A sharp slap to his back broke him from that rage. He turned to find Franky's grin had waned and his gaze had turned serious. His grip tightened on Kid's shoulder. "Let's go build you a new ship while we wait. Something that will terrify not just a giant, but a god."

* * *

 _Southeastern Normandy_

"That boar did not last long," Bonney groaned as she trotted along the road. Her stomach growled and she eyed the horses they borrowed in Rouen. They looked fat and healthy. Mouthwatering.

"Earl Bonney, please be patient," her adviser said from his horse beside her. "The Duke will be furious if we do not return his horses. _All of them_."

She hissed. She couldn't make an enemy of Normandy all because she ate one or two measly horses.

"The count will surely greet you with a feast," he continued. "All of Normandy knows that the Earl of Hedeby must not starve on their lands. Even if they do not believe in our gods, they know a blight will come if you are displeased with them."

A blight brought forth by her men. They would raid and pillage every farm to feed her. They would burn and slaughter their way through Francia and seize Paris if they needed to. And when they left, the Frankish and Norman would only have ashes.

Her stomach twisted around its emptiness. She slumped in her saddle, clutched her gut, and groaned. She should have demanded an extra boar for her journey. The cart of provisions the duke gave her lasted an hour despite his insistence that it should be enough to feed ten men over her two-day ride south; it should have been more than enough for her and the four men she picked to accompany her. The three flanks of boar meat she brought had been gone by nightfall. Her men had tried to hunt down a buck for breakfast but had been unsuccessful. She had to satisfy herself with three loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese, a bag of berries, and two apples that they bought from a farmer along the way.

She needed to eat.

"Look, Earl Bonney," her adviser shouted, pointing ahead to a set of towers peeking over the horizon. "There is the count's estate. Less than an hour's ride and we'll –"

She didn't give him a chance to finish. She kicked her horse hard, spurred it to gallop ahead of her men and toward the estate that sprawled over the hilly countryside. Farms dotted the land, their homes specks in the distance. A small village lay on the outskirts of the count's estate. She raced through while her men hastened their horses to keep up with her, nearly trampling any idiot that stood in their way.

The gates of the estate swung open and soldiers leaped out of the way as she barreled into the estate's courtyard. The count waited on the steps, dressed in a deep blue doublet and trousers, with his gold livery chain draped over his shoulders so that the amber stones glittered in the sun. White fur trimmed the collar around his neck, where the dark body of a snake contrasted the fur. It lifted its head, flicked its tongue out, and then burrowed back into the count's fur as though it couldn't be bothered to greet their guests. The count did not appear any more eager to greet them as he stood with his arms crossed over a broad chest, lips tugged into a furious frown as he watched her jump from her saddle. A stable boy took her horse's reins. The creature was exhausted from the sprint to the estate, its coat slick with lather. It would need a good drink and rest. It earned it for how quickly it carried her.

"Food," she demanded.

"Earl Bonney," her adviser hollered. "That is no way to address a count."

She ignored him as she stomped over to the count. Even if he did not stand on the steps above her, she would have to crane her neck to meet his simmering blue eyes, but his imposing height did not bother her. Nor did his rank.

She was an earl, after all.

"Food," she demanded again.

He sighed. "It is good that the duke sent word of your coming," he muttered as he turned to the side and nodded to the open doors of his home. "My cooks began roasting a whole pig as soon as your name left the messenger's lips."

Bonney grinned as she welcomed herself into his home. "This is why I like you Normans," she quipped, tossing her cloak to a waiting servant. "You still understand the importance of hospitality."

"We understand that it is easier to feed you than fight you," he responded, his tone flat. "So? What business has brought you here? I see no wares to trade, nor any mercenaries to hire."

"Supper first, then business," Bonney huffed. She found her way to the dining hall by the scent of the roast. Her stomach growled loud enough for the count trailing behind her to hear. He sighed and did not argue with her demands.

The count did not bother eating with her. He knew better than to try. He left her to eat at the long table with only her men while he saw to his own business. She was free to devour the whole roast pig before her, sparing a few morsels for her companions. She ate everything within her reach. Bread, the foulest smelling cheese, the most succulent fruits, rich tubers, sausages from the Rhinelands, fish from the west, and drowned it all with flagons of sharp wine. And then the cook brought her dessert. The tastiest puddings and tarts she had ever known existed.

She was sorely tempted to kidnap the count's kitchen staff for herself. She would eat like a queen every night.

It was too bad the boy fawned over her so much. While his cooking was what she would expect to find in the king's palace, or in the halls of the emperor, he loved women too much.

"Earl Bonney, I am truly honored to have you eat my food," he cooed. She sank back in her chair, loosened her belt, and belched. "The most beautiful lady to ever grace this hall."

"You meant the most beautiful lady to grace the hall this week," the count called out from the door as he returned. She burped again, and the count sent her a withering glare. "Though I am left to wonder how you find her to be so lovely, Sanji."

"She is a woman with a remarkable appetite and true appreciation for my art," the cook huffed in proper Frankish. His blonde hair hid one eye, but it did not diminish the glare he sent his master. "Unlike some shitty lords," he muttered.

The count pinched the bridge of his nose and waved the cook away. "We have business to attend to, and knowing Earl Bonney, she will be hungry again once we are through. You should plan for another four courses."

"Five," Bonney chirped, smiling wide at the cook. He clutched his chest and looked as though he would faint. "And more of those tarts."

"Of course, Earl Bonney. I will be your slave for eternity," he sang, dancing off to the kitchen to prepare her next meal.

The count threw himself into a large chair at the opposite end of the table. His family's heraldry hung on the wall behind him.

A blue dragon on a crimson field.

"That man is the most talented cook I have ever met, but I wish I did not agree to take him from his warden," the count groaned. "He has drawn the ire of every man in the village with his behavior toward their wives and daughters, and the disrespect he shows the men. It is a chore keeping his head on his shoulders."

Bonney snorted. "When did you take him in? He was not here when I visited last summer."

"Just after the last harvest. He had been living in Paris with a well-known baker and cook, was earning himself a good reputation with his trade, but then he was disrespectful to a ranked soldier and dared to slap him. A price was on his head by the next day. His warden had not wanted to give him up, but for Sanji's safety, he had no choice. I agreed to hide him here until Paris was safe again."

"How noble and generous of you," Bonney teased. "I'm grateful for the change in your staff, though I don't know why you would bother to protect a lowly cook from the wrath of a soldier."

"His family is far from low-born. It is too my advantage to keep him alive."

"What royal family allows their child to live as a peasant cook?"

The count did not answer as he idly traced a finger over the snake still draped over his shoulders.

"I see you still keep your strange pets," she noted. "I never understood your fascination with those things."

A wry smile coupled with an impertinent hiss were all they gave in response.

"Is that one new?"

The count nodded. "Sanji found him in the food stores a couple of months ago. He had made a nest within a bag of oranges. He bit one of the women and Sanji nearly killed him, but he slithered out and found me." He chuckled. "He's refused to leave me since."

She cooed. "He likes you. Must have picked up the scent of all the snakes and lizards you keep hidden in this place."

"Possibly," he mused as he scratched the snake's neck. The creature looked positively delighted with the attention, not what she would expect from a wild snake.

She swore it grinned.

"Did you name him?" she asked. The snake opened his eyes and stared at her. A shiver ran down her spine at the glimmer in those black, beady eyes.

That was not a normal snake.

"Jormungand," the count said.

She cocked a brow. That was definitely not a typical viper.

"Enough about the snake, Bonney. What brings you here?"

She broke her gaze from the snake's and shook her head to dispel her suspicions. It did not matter to her, and she knew better than to be surprised by the snake's presence.

"I'm going to war with King Enel," she stated. There was no use beating around her reason for being there.

"King Enel?" the count hummed. "Which one is he again?"

"The one who cut off all trade with Christians when he seized the throne in Oslofjord."

"And this matters to me because?" he prompted. "I do not trade with anyone in the north, save for you. The duke might be annoyed with the loss, but there are still plenty in Noreg and Svealand willing to trade with us."

"This is not about trade agreements, broken or existing," Bonney explained. "He attacked Jarl Eustass and took the woman he was courting."

"And? I see no benefit in either you or I getting involved in a personal squabble. It is unfortunate that this woman has been caught in the middle of a feud, but it is not my responsibility to aid her."

Bonney growled at his dismissive tone. "This woman is from Svealand," she said. The count's brow rose but he did not appear any more interested than he had been. "The last surviving daughter of a certain clan that was slaughtered by your people eighteen years ago."

If she had not been staring at him, she may have missed the subtle tick in the count's jaw. His expression remained stoic, his eyes did not look away from hers once.

When she had heard that Nami had family in Normandy, she had a feeling she knew who that might be. It seemed that her suspicions were correct.

"It is not my business," he said quietly, his tone hard with resolve. "I know nothing of this clan you speak. And even if I did…" He trailed off, his gaze narrowed. "It is not my business."

She hadn't expected him to jump to his feet and insist upon rescuing Nami, but his cold, apathetic response was a disappointment.

"Are you sure you do not know of who I speak?" Bonney pushed. "She is named for the waves of the sea, but her hair is as brilliant as the amber around your neck." His jaw ticked again. "As bright and warm as a fire on an icy northern night." His eyes hardened when her gaze flicked to his hair, and his lip began to curl in a sneer. She shrugged away his ire. "But, if you do not know her, then you do not know her."

"What is your point, Bonney?" he bit out.

She had never seen his temper thin so rapidly. If she prodded further, she may find herself bit, and not by the snake wrapped around his neck, but by the dragon that decorated his banner.

She sighed. "I do not expect you to spare any men, but I could use more arms. Cross-bows, if you have any spare ones lying around. We have plenty of iron, but King Enel's forces are not to be underestimated. We will take advantage of every weapon we have access to."

"I can provide additional weapons. I have a hundred cross-bows in my armory. I can provide a few dozen swords and battleaxes, if you desire those, as well. At a cost, of course."

She had not expected him to offer his battleaxes. His design was costly to craft, but strong enough to crush a skull to a bloody pulp with only a single blow. The head of the axe was so heavy, few men could even lift it, but in the hands of a truly mighty warrior, it could lay waste to a whole battlefield. Kid would want one of those axes.

"You can request payment from Jarl Eustass."

"And if he falls in battle?"

She smiled grimly. "I will see that you are compensated."

The count relaxed back in his chair. "And this woman? What importance is she to you that you would go to war for her?"

"I owe a debt for my very existence. She is how I will pay it," she explained. "Oh, and there is something else you should know that does concern you."

"What?"

"Trafalgar Law was recently in Denmark."

"Oh?"

"His men are still there, but he was exiled for murder… He specifically asked for a ship to take him to Oslofjord."

The count's hand drew into a tight fist but he remained silent.

"I did not inform Jarl Eustass or his men of this." She sighed. "I am hoping that it is only a coincidence. Kid doesn't need to be worried about Law when he has a war to win. I doubt Law knows anything about her…"

"What is there for him to know?" the count interrupted. "She has nothing to do with me, and the farther Law is from me, the better. He is nothing more than an annoying pest. A fly tormenting me as he buzzes about. I am glad to hear that he is tormenting other people these days."

"Of course," she said through a tight smile. He was being too insistent with his denials now.

"But, I do know there are… rumors… baseless rumors that may have earned his attention. So, if this woman's suitor falls in battle, but you still claim victory, I can provide her safe passage out of the north, away from any threats to her life." Bonney raised her brow at the unexpected offer. "There are many churches between here and Constantinople I could deliver her to on my next trip. None would expect her to be living as a nun. She will be safe that way."

Bonney chuckled. A daughter of the gods living in service to another? No, no one would expect such a thing. It was not a bad plan should Kid meet an unsavory end in this war. Though, if any of his men survived, they may disagree with that. Or they may be glad to be rid of the woman who led their jarl to his death. If any held fealty to her, they could always join the church to continue their duties as her guardians. Without their jarl, they would have nothing holding them in Noreg.

"I will give that some thought," Bonney agreed. "And perhaps I will have some mercenaries for you to take with you at that time. They may not wish to join with the Varangians, but I know the church will always welcome new devotees, especially those capable of protecting them from heathen raiders."

"My protection will come with additional costs, as well," he added with a sly grin.

He chuckled at her withering glare. "Your father may have been a greedy and cruel man, but you are not. I will pay for the weapons, but you offered passage freely, without request. You will provide it freely."

"So be it," he said, his amusement gone at the mention of his father.

She slapped her hand on the table. "Then we have a deal. Now, where is that cook? I'm hungry again!"

* * *

 _ **A/N:** I know the count's identity is probably obvious to anyone who knows my headcanons, but he, like Law, insists on remaining nameless until the very end._

 _And yes, there are multiple characters associated with dragons. Law just enjoys annoying dragons in general._

 _As I said way back in the England arc, I do have a subplot involved with the CP 9 characters and Robin, but it isn't relevant to the main plot of this fic. If whenever I finish this monster fic I feel inclined to write a medieval fic for Robin, I'll use that subplot... But that will probably end up being a monster of a fic, too, soooooooo... meh, we'll see._

 _I decided that Sanji would exist in this fic a while back, but I hadn't intended to introduce him until the actual Normandy arc, but then 'the count' decided to be relevant for this arc (at least for a tease) and when Bonney is hungry, Sanji must be involved to sate her._

 _This fic is going to become very violent again soon. Kid's battle against McKinley and his troops will be nothing compared to what he does next. XD_


End file.
